Menagerie
by silverfootsteps
Summary: "Last Tuesday, you threatened to beat him with a broom if he took the last slice of blueberry pie in the fridge." "But I like pie." A collection of one-shots. Itasaku.
1. Night Shift

Ugh. What is writing? Wut are grammar? Writing this makes me really want to have some pie and coffee now.

Enjoy!

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><p><span>Night Shift<span>

(Suggested by Black-footed)

Her feet felt like elephants. Big, heavy elephants crammed into obscenely tight shoes.

It was nearly 2 am. Sakura sighed tiredly as she sagged against the counter for a moment. The only customers in the diner were a couple students from the nearby university. She flipped open her text book and skimmed through it for a moment. But the names of molecular structures flew straight out of her head and into the air. She slipped off her shoes and rested her aching soles against the cold tile floor as she thumbed through the glossy pages.

"Slow night, huh?" Sai commented as he slipped behind the counter to refill his pot of coffee. His usual cheerful smile was a bit less convincing than usual. Sakura made a noise of assent in the back of her throat as she looked down at her aching feet. Sai heaved a sigh as he pressed his hip against the edge of the counter.

"Pretty shitty night for tips too," Sai added almost under his breath. Sakura laughed a little as she shook her apron pouch where she stored her tips. A few stray coins clicked together inside. She shut the heavy book and wedged it back into its placed between the coffee machine and cash register.

"Pretty shitty night in general, Sai. Oh, your table's calling," Sakura said noticing one of the college students waving in their direction. There were textbooks and notebooks spread across their table. She grimaced sympathetically when she recognized the diagram of the Krebs Cycle on one of the pages. It was understandable that they were camping out here since the library closed at 10 pm. Since the diner was open 24 hours a day, it made sense to study where there were tables and coffee. Sai put on his best smile as he ducked under the counter and headed in their direction. Sakura exhaled heavily through her nose as she glanced up at the old clock hanging above the cash register. She still had two hours until her shift ended.

As she stifled a huge yawn, the cursed bell rang and she turned just in time to see the glass door opening. A tall man with dark hair entered with the collar of his rain coat pulled high against the rain outside. It was her Tuesday night regular. Sakura watched with a strange sense of satisfaction as he walked with brisk, measured steps until he sat at a booth. One of hers, as always. She grabbed her notepad off the table along with a pencil before she ducked under the counter and approached the table. The usual polite "hello, what can I get you?" froze in the back of her throat when she caught sight of the dark circles under the man's dark eyes.

"Rough night?" Sakura asked instead. He looked up at her before he wearily nodded his head.

"Coffee then?" she guessed and he nodded again. Sakura tucked her blank notepad into her apron before she leaned over the counter to retrieve a pot of hot coffee along with a clean cup and saucer. When she returned to the table, he was shrugging off his coat and tossing it over the back of his seat. Her eyes lingered over his rumpled shirt and how his tie hung limply against his chest. But it wasn't her job to comment. Instead, she neatly set the cup in front of him and filled it with hot coffee.

"Thank you," he quietly said in a deep, smooth voice that somehow fit him very well. Sakura smiled politely before she left her coffee pot on the warmer and sat at one of the padded stools lined up along the counter. As she stretched her arms over her head, Sai collapsed heavily in the seat beside her and let his head full gracelessly onto the countertop.

"Stop that, Sai. You know Gai would be giving you a lecture on your lack of 'the springtime of youth' if he saw you like that," Sakura half-heartedly chided, nudging him with her arm. Grumbling, Sai reluctantly sat up, only to collapse to the side and rest his head against her shoulder.

"Knock it off. Go refill the napkin dispensers or something," she sighed, rubbing at the back of her neck. She moved her shoulder, jolting Sai's head off her. Sai rubbed at his eyes as he surveyed the mostly empty tables. From the way that his head was drooping, Sakura wasn't sure if he was going to make it for another two hours. To her relief, he slid off the stool and grabbed a packet of napkins from behind the coffee maker before shuffling over to the far end of the diner. When she glanced over at her one customer, she couldn't help but notice that Sai wasn't the only one on the verge of sleep. Her regular's chin was propped up in his hand and the slump of his shoulders seemed heavier than usual. After a little thinking, she ducked under the counter and grabbed the slice of key lime pie she had been saving in the refrigerated dessert display. She slid into the seat across from her lone customer, setting the pie and a fork in front of his hand.

"You, my friend, look like you could use this," she said with a smile. He slowly looked over the brim of his cup with piercing, dark gray eyes. After he took a sip of coffee, he unhurriedly placed the cup in the matching saucer. His long, elegant fingers rested on the Formica tabletop, unmoving.

"Oh come on. I didn't poison it. Honest," Sakura insisted, pushing the plate closer to him. A suspicion-laden frown twisted his lips as he looked up at her through impossibly thick, dark eyelashes. After a silent moment, he pushed the plate back at her, turning the handle of the fork in her direction.

"….Really?" she demanded. His silence was enough of an answer. Rolling her eyes, she cut off a square, speared it on the fork and popped it in her mouth. She chewed slowly, savoring the creamy texture against her tongue. When she swallowed, she felt his eyes scanning her face intently. With a smug smile, she pushed the plate back at him along with the fork.

"Honestly. What kind of idiot would poison a paying customer?" she complained mostly under her breath as he picked up the fork. For some reason, he paused, pie and whipped cream-laden fork hovering near his lips. He looked up with a faint smile.

"I didn't think you poisoned it. I just thought it wasn't fair to eat all of your pie," he quietly explained before taking a bite. Sakura's eyes narrowed.

"How did you know it was mine?" she demanded. He stopped eating to give her a mildly exasperated look.

"Last Tuesday, you threatened to beat him with a broom if he took the last slice of blueberry pie in the fridge," he flatly said, looking in Sai's direction. Sakura pursed her lips as she felt her cheeks grow warm. She couldn't deny that she had occasionally promised Sai bodily harm if he tried to steal the treat she always kept stashed away for dreary days like this. And it wasn't like she didn't pay for it at the end of the day. But maybe she was being a bit dramatic about it. She peeked at her customer from the corner of her eye and he was watching her.

"But I like pie," she sullenly replied, pouting.

Her Tuesday night regular looked down at the half-eaten pie for a moment, the corners of his mouth pulling into a wry smile.

"I know," he quietly said as he took another bite. Sakura put her elbow on the table and tucked her palm under her chin as she turned to look out the window. The rain had been coming down in thick sheets since morning. Water gurgled steadily through the drain pipe outside, pouring out into the street below. But the steady drum of the rain was soothing in its own way, almost cathartic. She took a deep breath through her nose and watched as a car drove past, spurting water all over the sidewalk.

They sat in silence together long after he had finished the pie. When she crossed her legs, her foot accidentally bumped against his shin. Her apology died in her throat as she met his half-smile. A shiver ran up her spine when his leg not-so-subtly dragged along hers. Struggling against her blush, she stood and bustled around wiping imaginary food off the already clean tables with a burst of nervous energy. When he finally moved to get his coat, she slipped the receipt from the pocket of her apron and slid it across the table at him. She saw the disapproval flit across his face when he saw that she had only rang him up for the coffee. But she matched his look with a raised eyebrow and he didn't protest. When he pulled a pen out of his pocket, she moved away. It was never polite to hover over customers when they paid.

"Have a nice night," she greeted him as he stood, adjusting the collar of his coat. His dark eyes glanced in the direction of the windows, observing the rain still pounding the windows viciously.

"You too," he replied before he opened the glass door, setting the bells chiming merrily again. She watched him brave through the water and wind until he reached the lone car in the narrow parking lot. After he drove away, she absently sat at the table to pick up the tab and the tip tucked neatly under the saucer. Her eyes widened as she unfolded the twenty-dollar bill.

"Lucky bitch," she heard Sai mutter as he peered at the generous tip over the back of the booth. She turned around and smacked him in the face with the money, laughing.

"Shut up, Sai," Sakura retorted. But she had to fight away a large grin when she flipped over the receipt. On it were two simple sentences:

_Buy yourself more pie. See you next Tuesday._

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><p>Reviews please! I still have four more prompts that some of my kind readers have suggested, but if you have any ideas or suggestions, post them in a review and I'd be happy to try.<p> 


	2. Innocence

I'm on a roll! I'm sorry about the mild angst in this one. I was originally planning to post this next week, but I'm going on vacation for two weeks so I won't have access to a computer where I can post this.

Enjoy.

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><p><span>Innocence<span>

(Suggested by Saiyuri Haruno)

"What's it like?" he whispered. It felt wrong to speak any louder. His eyes found the elegant curve of her throat as she looked up at him. A mysterious smile pulled at her uncolored lips as she gently pulled up at the edge of her sleeve and grasped the handle of the teapot. Steam curled into the air as she poured into a cup and presented it to him with both hands.

"Whatever could you mean, Itachi-sama?" she replied as her fingers subtly skimmed over his.

"Being… you, Sakura," Itachi said, gesturing to her soft silk kimono and her pale face before he took a sip of tea to be polite. She knew that he didn't like the bitter tea they served at this teahouse, but he never complained. When she set the teapot down, he caught the faintest glimpse of her bare wrists. There was just the faintest bit of charcoal outlining her green eyes. Not a single lock of her pink hair was out of place. It was all combed back into a sleek bun that left her throat and upper back exposed.

"Ah. Being a geisha, Itachi-sama? Of course it's a pleasurable life. My Kaa-san is very kind and my clients are all very wonderful men…. Such as you, Itachi-sama," she politely replied. She gestured to the small girl kneeling in the corner of the room who had been quietly plucking at the strings of a shamisen. The girl paled as she propped the instrument up against the wall and hurried over, nearly tripping over the hem of her brightly colored kimono. Shaking, she sat in front of the older woman.

"This is my danna, Itachi-sama," Sakura quietly said to the girl, ignoring her clumsy mistake. Still trembling, the girl lowered herself in a deep bow. When the girl straightened, Sakura put her hand on her shoulder..

"Would you go get us some more tea?" Sakura requested. Nodding vigorously, the girl took the tea kettle into her hands. She bowed quickly to both of them before she scurried out.

"She's a rather skittish maiko," Itachi observed as he got to his feet. Sakura nodded a little as she cast a worried glance towards the door the girl had disappeared through. Itachi moved away from the expensive cushioned seat prepared for him and instead settled next to her on the tatami. The rice paper doors to the back garden were opened and the sweet smell of plum blossoms wafted inside. The sounds of conversation from neighboring rooms filtered through the thin walls. When he stretched out on the floor and rested his head in her lap, the smile she gave him was different from the other ones she usually offered. Her celadon eyes softened and she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face.

"You weren't being honest with me before," Itachi said. Her lips pulled into a line and he knew that she was trying her best not to roll her eyes at him.

He had first met Sakura when she had been sold to the okiya when she was eight. Back then, all of the older girls had ridiculed and tormented her for her pink hair and green eyes. He had been heading home after running an errand for his father when he had found the peculiar girl hunched behind a horse-drawn cart. She had been sobbing desperately, sporting a swollen cheek. When he had asked her what was the matter, she explained between sobs that she had given one of the maiko a black eye after she had insulted her family and that if she returned to the okiya, she would be beaten severely. A small chuckle escaped him at the memory and Sakura's forehead creased.

"I was thinking of how I first met you. Such a violent child grew up into such a beautiful flower," Itachi said, reaching up to run the back of his hand against her soft cheek. A melodic laugh left Sakura as she remembered too.

"They tied me to a tree when I got back to the okiya. And I didn't get any food or water for a whole day," she replied with a surprisingly easy smile. It always amazed him how she could look back at her harsh upbringing with any sort of positivity. It filled him with awe as much as it brought up a deeper, darker feeling from the pit of his gut. As he looked up into her beautiful face, a familiar claw tightened around his chest.

"Sakura?" he said as she turned her head to look out into the back garden. Her eyes were clear and so impossibly untainted. It only made it more painful to realize that her soft skin and gentle words were not his alone.

"What's it like?" Itachi inquired, repeating his earlier question. This time, there was no nosy maiko to listen in and possibly spread rumors to the other girls in the okiya. Sakura seemed to realize this as her eyes slowly met his. Her long eyelashes fanned against her pale cheek as she looked at him. When she finally smiled, it looked as if she were going to cry. But he knew that was impossible. Geisha never cried.

"It is not a geisha's duty to feel," she finally said in a whisper. Her smile wavered once when he lifted his hand again to cup her cheek. He ran his thumb tenderly under her eye, wiping away the tears that she would never shed.

"You could always stop. I… could support you," Itachi said. The smile shifted, becoming polite and distant once more.

"Itachi-sama, you flatter me. But the head of the honored Uchiha clan forgets that he has already provided me with many things," Sakura evenly said. As her danna, Itachi had paid for her training as well as the beautiful silk kimonos and make-up that were essential for her trade. And being by his side at parties and events had drawn in even more wealthy clients. Itachi ran his finger along the luxurious light blue silk embroidered with butterflies.

"No, Sakura. I meant that I would bring you into my family… as my wife."

Her laugh was a little colder this time. She had probably heard the proposition countless times from young men drunk on her beauty. They would promise her affection and devotion. But as time passed, they would marry and leave her side or they would be enchanted by other geisha and stolen away. Countless men had proposed, but none ever lasted. She had learned to stop believing such sweet words long ago.

"Aren't you a little old to be making such grand promises, Itachi-sama?" Sakura said with a faint sigh, lightly running her fingers down the side of his face.

"Aren't you a little young to stop believing them?" he countered. The silence that stretched between them was almost uncomfortable as she turned to look outside again. He took hold of her hand, drawing her attention again. Their gazes locked as Itachi drew her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss against her palm. His fingers laced through hers and she didn't make any effort to pull away. Then again, it was her job to give him whatever he wanted.

She could be a sister, a mother, a lover. He had even seen her with other clients at parties and watched her tenderness sparkle so convincingly in her eyes, only to disappear as soon as her back was turned. As pleasant as she seemed, as kindly as she spoke, he knew that the one thing he wanted from her was the one thing she would never give him. His mother liked to say that people with warm hearts had cold hands and people with cold hearts had warm hands. Sakura's hands were furnaces, leaving his skin feverishly warm wherever she touched him.

"My apologies. I've upset you," he said. But she shook her head.

"This isn't a place for apologies, Itachi-sama," Sakura simply replied with a polite smile. But she had already retreated into her professional shell. He had hurt her. He sat up, instantly missing the warmth of her lap.

"I'll come back again," he said, not looking at her. But he knew that she would be sitting primly with her hands folded in her lap and the smooth sleeves of her kimono pooling on the floor. And the smile on her face would be so convincing that he would almost believe for a moment that she wasn't crying on the inside.

When he saw her again, it was when she was on the arm of another man. It was the annual cherry blossom viewing held at the sprawling Uchiha estate. Her light pink kimono blended in so perfectly with the delicate petals cascading to the ground all around her. She held a matching parasol over her head while her maiko trailed along behind her. The sight of her slender fingers wrapped around the man's arm made his stomach roll unpleasantly. She laughed politely at something the man said and leaned over to whisper something in his ear. But as she did so, her eyes drifted to Itachi. For a moment, her bright smile faltered, but she quickly regained her composure. She bowed to the man before disengaging herself from his arm and glided over to where Itachi stood. Her maiko hurried along after her like a lamb following its mother.

"Itachi-sama," she greeted him with a graceful bow. When she lifted her head, her green eyes were piercing, almost accusatory. Her gaze didn't fit in at all with her sweet smile.

"I was a little saddened when you didn't request me to escort you. Fortunately, Sarutobi-san was gracious enough to invite us," Sakura lightly said, motioning towards the man she had just left. Itachi didn't respond to the subtle jab. Instead, he offered his right arm to her. Sakura glanced down at it out of the corners of her eyes and for a moment, it looked like she might refuse him. But she slowly reached out and looped her arm through his, resting her hand on top of the crook of his elbow.

"Please keep Sarutobi-san entertained for a bit," Sakura instructed her maiko and sent the girl running off. Itachi led her away from the crowds of guests chatting in the courtyard. Instead, he guided her to the opposite side of the estate where the only sounds were the wind and the sounds of their feet treading through the grass.

"Why didn't you call on me, Itachi-sama?" she quietly inquired as they slowly walked through the cherry trees, wandering in random paths. He could tell from her tone that she was a little hurt.

"Sakura," Itachi sighed as he stopped walking. He placed his hands on her shoulders and lowered her to one of the carved stone benches scattered along the estate. She peered up at him through her dark eyelashes with a childish look of curiosity.

"Sakura, you must understand. Having a marriage proposal rejected is a rather severe blow to a man's pride," he said, settling on the bench beside her. Sakura's smile dimmed a little.

"A rejected joke shouldn't be such a severe shock, Itachi-sama," she replied in an even tone.

"I'm hardly a man of humor, Sakura," Itachi rebutted and she fell silent. They sat in silence as wind whisked through the air, raining a fresh barrage of cherry blossoms on top of them. The petals settled in her hair and along the folds of her elegant kimono but she remained immobile, like a beautiful, cold statue.

"Itachi-sama, I respect you and I am indebted to you. But there's only a certain amount of teasing that I will tolerate, even if it is from you," Sakura quietly said as she stood. With a stiff bow, she turned and strode off in the direction they had come from. She had only gone a few steps before Itachi caught up to her and held onto her upper arm.

"Why can't you believe that I'm honestly asking you to become my wife?" he murmured, lifting his free hand to lightly graze over her cheek. Sakura's lips curved upwards, but it couldn't be called a smile, not when her eyes looked so ready to fill with tears.

"No man wants what has already been defiled by other men," she whispered, pulling free from his grasp. He didn't follow her this time. And somehow, from the way her shoulders were hunched, he could tell that she was crying. She paused for a moment to wipe at her face with her sleeve. When she glanced over her shoulder, he was struck with her elegant profile as tears spilled from her eyes.

As broken and cold as she looked, she was that much more beautiful.

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><p>Before anybody starts criticizing me that geisha wear lots of white make-up and lipstick, you're confusing them with maiko. True geisha don't rely on the make-up or hair to stand out. After a few years, they mostly abandon the make-up and rely on just their reputations. And geisha were not prostitutes. They were entertainers. They danced, played music and kept men company. While it's true that maiko would sell their virginity, it was a one-time thing to fund her debut as a geisha. Geisha generally did not have intimate relations with their customers. (You're confusing them with oiran. Google it.)<p>

Maiko are geisha-in-training. Typically, their kimonos and hair and make-up are very complicated and flashy. They have a Nee-san who is an experienced geisha that they follow around and learn things from.

An okiya is the place where geisha live. The okiya pays for training and living expenses but in return, the geisha must work to pay back the okiya. Families who couldn't afford to care for their daughters often sold them to okiyas at a young age. A woman who runs an okiya is referred to as Kaa-san (Mother) by the geisha who live there.

A danna is a wealthy patron who pays for the geisha's training as well as other things.

I think that's pretty much it. If you're still confused on anything, feel free to ask.

Reviews are appreciated!


	3. Piano

Hello hello hello. I'm back from vacation and I was bored during the flight home so this oneshot popped up. I'm sorry for the lack of... fluff and happiness in my writing lately. But I'll do my best to get the next chapter of FF out next week so please don't kill me. Nonsense aside, enjoy!

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><p><span>Piano<span>

(Suggested by FullMo0n)

Itachi had always hated snow.

It was like everything in the world had died and left him to suffocate in the quiet. On dark nights, he would stand on his balcony, bare feet freezing on the cement, and watch the white flakes float down from the black sky. He exhaled sharply, watching the white tendrils spill from his mouth. As he stretched out his palm, a tiny crystal flake landed on his cool skin. As the six-pointed ice melted into a lukewarm drop of water, he stared up into the starless night. It felt like he was sinking into the universe, spinning away from where he stood.

Just when he felt like the eerie quiet would swallow him whole; a single noise pierced the night.

A haunting noise that echoed deep in his chest.

He took a deep breath as he looked down at the empty street below. The snow had settled in a thick, powdery blanket over the black asphalt and the windows in the homes up and down the street were dark. But out of the corner of his eye, he caught the faintest glimmer of yellow. In the house next-door, in an upstairs window, he saw the edge of a curtain fluttering. The sound pierced the air again. Overcome by his curiosity, Itachi slipped back into his room, sliding the balcony door shut behind him. He crossed the room and pushed back the curtain in front of the window that faced his next-door neighbor.

He was pleasantly surprised to see that the window across from his was wide open. It was a white French window that opened outwards. The white see-through curtains billowed outside in the cool wind. As the fabric flowed in the breeze, he caught glimpses of a dimly lit room and a white piano. He unlatched his own window and swung it open just as a set of low notes crashed through the air. The harsh sound grated angrily, as if it were punishing anyone who dared to listen. But after a pause, a gentle, high note slithered out. Feather-light sounds, soft and delicate, fluttered from the white piano. It ran like cool water through his veins as he leaned against the sill to listen. The notes trickled out, tumbling from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows until it settled in an uneasy rumbling on the lower keys. Gradually, the river of sounds slowed to a trickle, only the most random notes filtering into the air.

A short cry of frustration broke through the music before a dissonant crashing of keys shattered the calm. And what sounded suspiciously like a sniffle floated past the curtains.

He should have turned away to give her privacy. He should have closed his window and gone back to bed.

Instead, he rested his cheek against the windowsill and let the hollow sounds of her liquid sobs envelop him. After a while, he heard quiet footsteps and Itachi automatically lifted his head. Just as he looked up, he was met with a girl leaning outside to shut her window. They both froze. He took in her watery, pale eyes and her disheveled hair. She stared back at him, completely mute. With a look of utter horror, she slammed the window shut and retreated back into her home. But still, he could see her silhouette for a long time behind the flowing white curtains. Eventually, he drifted back to his bed and burrowed into the warm comforter without bothering to close his window. As the chill seeped into his room, he nestled comfortably in his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

The girl's music, as beautiful as it had been, gnawed at his soul. It was so perfect, yet so painful to listen to.

When he woke up the next morning, the snow had accumulated in a thick, frozen sheet almost two feet thick. As a result, schools were closed, which meant he had the day off. He went downstairs to grab some toast and a mug of hot tea before he retreated back up to his room. His mother frowned a little when he didn't sit down to join his brother and father for breakfast, but he muttered that he was studying and his father urged him to go back to his room. Chewing thoughtfully on his toast, he set his mug down on the windowsill and pushed the window open. To his surprise, his neighbor was in the process of opening her window again. In the daylight, he saw that her hair was the most unusual shade of pink. It was tied up into a sloppy bun on top of her head. She was wearing an oversized white sweater that slipped off her left shoulder.

"Good morning," he said and her head shot up. Her hands tightened on the window, like she was about to slam it shut again.

"Would you like some toast?" Itachi said, holding out his plate so she could see the two slices of crispy bread stacked on top. Her mouth opened into a perfect 'o' of surprise as she stared at him.

"No thank you," she finally said with a sniff. Her eyes drifted to her outstretched hands, as if she were deciding whether to close her window against her clearly unwelcome audience. But after a moment, she ducked behind the curtain and a series of crisp notes spilled from the room. He listened to her warm up in a series of trickling scales before everything went silent. And then, he heard her take a deep breath as a soft melody floated around him. It was peaceful, almost a little sad, and it seemed to spill not from the piano but from the very sky above.

It was still snowing. Not as heavily as before, but the white flakes were floating down and settling over the pristine streets below. Even though the sky was a flat shade of gray and the empty, lifeless streets were still suffocating, the quiet, poignant sounds of the piano echoed in his ears.

After a while, his room grew cold and his fingers grew stiff from the cold. He hadn't even realized how much time had passed until he reached for his tea left on the windowsill and found it almost frozen. Still, he waited until she finished her song. He craned his neck to peer through the sheer curtains. When a cool wind swept past, the curtains shifted, revealing the girl leaning on the piano with her cheek pressed against the white keys.

"Do you know any pieces by Debussy?" Itachi called out and her head rose just a little before she nodded. He perched contentedly on the windowsill and listened as the quiet, slightly discordant notes whispered through the gap between their houses.

It became a habit.

He didn't know her name and he highly doubted that she knew his. Every day after school, he would sit by his window and take his spot as her one-person audience. He had the distinct impression that she was around his age, but she somehow seemed older. Maybe it was the washed-out shades of ivory and cream that she always wore. Or maybe it was the tired sag of her shoulders and the way she would sometimes dissolve into nearly silent sobs as she played. But even when her tears fell onto the keys or when she abruptly stopped by slamming her fingers down in an ugly, harsh noise, the next day, her window would always be open again.

"Don't you go to school?" he asked one day. The snow had long-since melted and instead the trees were filled with tightly-wrapped, pink buds that would soon burst into flowers. Still, even as the weather grew warmer, she never seemed to stop wearing sweaters and sometimes even scarves.

"I can't," she softly replied as she ran her long fingers over the keys. And she had looked so sad that he didn't bring it up again.

Before Itachi even realized it, a full year had passed and he found himself watching the dreaded snow fall again with the soft sounds of the piano filtering in through the window.

"Hey," he said from his usual spot by the window. She didn't say anything, but she played a little bit softer to let him know that she was listening. But when he searched for the words, he couldn't quite figure out what to say. How was he supposed to thank her for taking the edge off the endless silence when it snowed? How was he supposed to let her know that she had stopped the night from swallowing him up? When her green eyes, wide with curiosity, glanced up in his direction, he felt a hot spear pierce through his chest and words were lost to him completely.

He never did end up thanking her. Years went by. And although he went to college, moved out of his parents' house, he still visited his old room to sit on the windowsill and listening to the sad, beautiful girl's piano. He never did set foot in that house and she never set foot outside of it. And each time, he would softly interrupt her haunting music with a hesitant "hey".

But his silence always stretched on and she continued playing long into the darkness.

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><p>Reviews are appreciated. I have just two more left. Suggest more topics for me in reviews please, you lovely readers.<p> 


	4. Jealousy

I had a bit of trouble with this one so please don't hate me. If I didn't love this couple so much, I'd be flipping furniture over right now.

Enjoy!

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><p><span>Jealousy<span>

(suggested by asdf)

The clatter of teacups against saucers filled in the silence where she should have been chattering away happily. Her chin was propped up in her hand as she stirred her latte with a tiny silver spoon. Every once in a while, she would lift the spoon to watch tiny droplets of coffee trickle off the tip and back into the cup.

"Sakura," Sasuke quietly said and her narrowed eyes slowly trailed over to him. The hand holding the spoon twitched, like she was contemplating whether or not to throw it at his head. But she settled for biting down on her lower lip before she sniffed and turned away.

"You're upset. Did something happen at work?" he inquired as he leaned forward in his seat.

"No. I'm busy right now. If you have something to say, say it quickly," she snapped, tapping her manicured nails impatiently against the glossy tabletop. Sasuke heaved a sigh as he leaned back in his chair and she listened to the wood creak unhappily. She gave her cold coffee another stir before she tossed the spoon onto the table with a loud clatter, earning a look of exasperation from Sasuke.

"I'm busy right now. I'll see you later," Sakura brusquely announced as she got to her feet. When Sasuke made to stand too, she fixed him with such an acid glare that he decided against it. She thrust her arms through the sleeves of her jacket and tossed a few crumpled bills on the table before she strode off, angrily raking her fingers through her short hair. Before she even made it out of the café, her phone buzzed incessantly.

"Hello?" Sakura answered without checking the caller ID.

"Boss!"

Sakura winced as the voice screeched through her phone. She took a deep calming breath before she pushed past the glass door and emerged in the blustery city of Konoha.

"What's going on?" she inquired as she hurried down the sidewalk. All she heard was a flurry of panicked babble from the other end of the line. There was the distinct clatter of plates knocking against one another before there was a resounding crash. After some hushed laughter, the hum of voices grew smaller.

"Hey, Sakura," Sai calmly said after he had undoubtedly plucked the phone from Konohamaru.

"Sai," she said in a warning tone and she heard Sai's muted laughter.

"Well, it's the lunch rush. You're not here, both of the hand brewers are broken, we ran out of sugar packets an hour ago and Konohamaru's broken about two plates so far," he listed off. As he spoke, there was another loud crash, followed by a series of shouts.

"Make that five plates," Sai cheerfully added. Sakura rubbed her temple with her free hand as she ran to her car.

"Well put him on counter duty and keep him away from the dishes. I'll be there in a bit," Sakura ordered as she climbed into the driver's seat.

"Okay," Sai replied before he hung up. Sakura heaved a sigh as she pulled away from the curb and drove to the other end of town where a small but busy café waited. It was tucked between an old bookstore and a pawn shop in one of the quieter parts of the city. But something about the soft yellow siding and the white trellises bursting with morning glories drew the eye. Early in the morning, the aroma of freshly-baked bread weaved through the neighborhood like perfume. Inside the café were bookshelves filled with old books with strange titles along with handmade wooden statues. These things all combined to make one place that drew in customers from all over the city. Sakura pulled up behind the café and parked her car near the old cherry blossom tree whose branches sprawled lazily over the roof before she grabbed her stuff up in one hand and burst in through the back door.

"Sai! Extra sugar's in the basement!" she shouted as she grabbed her apron from the hook by the door while she threw her stuff in a pile in her small office before she locked the door. She hurried through the kitchen, hurriedly greeting Yamato who was busy grilling chicken for the customers.

"We exiled Konohamaru to handle the register," Yamato called after her and she raised her hand in thanks.

"Sai!" Sakura said again as she emerged from the kitchen and found Konohamaru sulking behind the counter.

"What's the count for today, kiddo?" she inquired as she reached around him to grab the hand brewers used to make coffee. Konohamaru's lip jutted out in a pout as he glanced up at her. After a moment, he held up six fingers, bowing his head.

"Just be careful from now on. Try to watch where you're walking, okay?" Sakura said, patting the top of his spiky hair. He nodded solemnly as he watched her fiddle with the metal rim of the hand brewer. After a little tugging, she managed to snap the parts back in place.

"Go wait on tables. I'll take over," ordered Sakura as she lightly pushed the back of his head. Konohamaru grinned widely as he ducked under the counter and ran off to greet the newest batch of customers who had just entered the café.

"Sugar," Sai calmly sang as he walked up the stairs from the basement carrying two sacks. He caught sight of Sakura and nodded his head in greeting since his hands were occupied.

The lunch rush lasted for another hour and a half with Konohamaru and Sai scrambling around frantically to take orders and deliver food. Sakura smiled and brewed cappuccinos and espressos until she thought her blood might actually turn to coffee. By 2 pm, Sakura was slumped over behind the counter while Konohamaru sat on one of the stools and fanned her with a menu while Sai sat beside him fanning himself. Yamato emerged from the door leading from the kitchen to behind the counter, puffing out his cheeks as he wiped the sweat from the back of his neck with a clean rag.

"Why do people love hot sandwiches so much?" Yamato groaned as he reached over Sakura to grab the glass of cold water she had been sipping from.

"Because it's cold. And your roasted pepper sauce is something from heaven itself," Sai flatly replied.

"Agreed," Konohamaru mumbled as he stopped fanning Sakura to fan himself. She laughed at his weary expression as she sat up straight. As she stretched her arms over her head, the door opened, letting in a gust of cool air.

"I guess I just missed the chaos," a deep voice huffed, obviously amused. Sakura lowered her arms as a smile spread across her face.

"You're late for lunch," Sakura replied as she got to her feet and wiped her hands on her dark apron.

"Hey, Itachi," Yamato greeted him as he made his way back to the kitchen and Itachi politely inclined his head.

"The usual?" inquired Sakura as she rose to her toes to grab a clean cup from a shelf. When she glanced down at him, he nodded. Konohamaru and Sai sighed in unison as she pulled the lever on the machine and the fragrance of coffee spread into the air. She shifted her weight to her other foot as she waited for the dark liquid to trickle into the cup.

"You look upset. Are you alright?" Itachi commented as he propped his chin up in his hand and watched her rub the back of her neck. Sakura blew a long breath out as she looked up at him. For an instant, her lips parted, like she was going to respond, but she cast a quick glance around and her mouth promptly shut again. At this, Konohamaru suddenly got to his feet, flapping the menu in exaggerated motions.

"Whoo! I better go clean the bathrooms!" he exclaimed, hurrying off. As he left, he gave Sai a pointed look, jabbing his thumb towards the kitchen.

"I'll go check the inventory," Sai said, pushing away from the counter and walking off. Sakura laughed as she picked up the cup and slid it across the counter to Itachi. After a quick glance around the café, she found it was empty except for one of her regulars tucked away in a corner with headphones and an old book of poetry. But when she still hesitated, the corner of Itachi's mouth lifted in a half-smile.

"Come on, future-sister-in-law. What troubles you?" Itachi insisted, patting the counter. Instead of making her laugh, his comment only succeeding in making the vestiges of her smile slide straight off her face. Her eyes darted from his face and down to the ring on her left hand that suddenly felt like it weighed a million pounds.

"Well…" Sakura began hesitantly as she put her elbows up on the counter and leaned forward. She waited for him to take a sip of coffee and set the cup down before she continued.

"Sasuke might be having an affair," she finally admitted and she felt Itachi's gaze harden. His hand suddenly tightened into a fist as his eyes narrowed in on her. But she somehow felt relieved that the hostility wasn't directed at her.

"An affair?" Itachi repeated, pushing his coffee cup to the side. She could see the gears turning in his head as he leaned forward, lowering his voice.

"…Well… there're the telltale signs: frequent showers, strange phone calls, coming home late, scratches from playing basketball-" Sakura listed off but Itachi put up a hand to stop her.

"Sasuke hates basketball," he informed her. Their eyes met and Sakura couldn't help the stab of panic that shot through her chest at his grim expression.

"Sakura," he sighed and she slumped over, letting her forehead hit the counter. She ran her hands through her hair with a groan. She had been ignoring the signs for months, coming up with so many excuses until she had completely run out of things to convince herself of. But Itachi's response confirmed it.

"…Let's go visit him at work today. You should confront him," Itachi said and Sakura's head perked up.

"Should I?"

"Yes. In fact, we should go now," he said, grabbing her hand. Sakura barely had time to shed her apron as she was pulled through the café. On the way out, Sai poked his head out of the storage room near the kitchen, his eyebrow raised.

"I'll be back… I think," Sakura informed him and only received a nonchalant wave.

During the brisk 20-minute walk to the business center of Konoha, Itachi's warm hand tightly held hers. Every once in a while, his fingers would tighten over hers; it was as if he were trying to make sure she was still there. By the time they stepped into the marble lobby of Uchiha Corporation headquarters, her fingers tingled uncomfortably. But she didn't have the will to ask him to let go. The warmth of another hand in hers felt like it was tethering her down to earth.

She didn't quite remember what she saw when they barged in, past the secretary and into Sasuke's office. All she could recall was Itachi opening the door and then quickly shutting it again. Her eyes were frozen to Itachi's tight, controlled expression, like he was trying to prevent himself from committing a horrible act of violence. Still, all she could feel was the constricting heat of his hand holding hers. A few minutes later, the door to his office swung open again and she was met with a slightly frazzled young woman with large breasts and lipstick smeared messily across her mouth. Just behind her was Sasuke who was still trying to knot his tie.

"Oh," was the only word she could hear leaving her mouth. When Sasuke looked up at her, she averted her gaze to the ground.

"Oh," she said again as her hands began shaking uncontrollably.

"I guess you're busy. We'll leave," Sakura heard Itachi firmly say. The woman began to speak but one stern look from Itachi set her silent again.

"Get out," Sasuke flatly ordered, not glancing in her direction. In fact, his gaze never left the top of her head, burning so strongly that she thought it might start sizzling a hole there. When she finally gathered the strength to look him in the eyes, she couldn't fight the wave of utter repulsion that rolled through her. Without thinking, she pried the ring off of her left hand and, with an incoherent cry of frustration, flung it straight at Sasuke's face.

"I'd say 'fuck you', except you seem to be busy fucking someone else," she spat before she turned on her heel and stormed off.

"Sakura," Itachi called after her as she blindly stumbled down to the elevator, tripping over her own feet in her haste.

"Sakura!" Itachi half-shouted as he managed to grab hold of her arm, jerking her back. Sakura flailed angrily in his grasp, spitting half-intelligible words. He took hold of her by the shoulders and shook her until she finally stopped yelling back at him.

"Don't give him the satisfaction. Don't cry," he slowly said, enunciating each word. She stopped struggling as his words sunk in. Slowly, she lifted her head to look at him.

"Satisfaction?" she repeated unsurely and Itachi nodded.

"Let's be rational," Itachi said. But Sakura felt the rage slowing to a deep boil inside her chest. And all the fury and anxiety she had kept pent up for months began crystalizing into something much more solid, much deadlier.

"Alright. Let's be rational then," she whispered as she looked down at her empty ring finger and finally let the tears flow. And she didn't feel bad at all that she ruined the front of his shirt by crying and smearing her mascara all over it.

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><p>"SASUKE!" Naruto roared as he burst into his best friend's office. Sasuke scowled as he looked up from his computer, eyeing the source of all noise with obvious irritation. But when Naruto continued waving a piece of white paper around in front of his face, Sasuke reluctantly snatched it up and set it on the desk in front of him. To his surprise, the paper was thick under his fingertips and it smelled faintly of perfume.<p>

_Mr. and Mrs. Haruno request the honor of your presence at the marriage of their daughter on Saturday, the eleventh of June at four o'clock in the afternoon at the Konoha Botanical Gardens. Reception to follow at the Konoha Sweetmill Country Club._

Sasuke stared blankly at the words written out in elegant cursive. He eyed the elegant cherry blossoms printed onto the corners of the paper along with a matching card to RSVP. Slowly, he looked up at Naruto who had a completely horrified expression.

"What," he finally said without any inflection.

"Um… turn it over," Naruto quietly suggested, warily pointing a finger at the white card. Sasuke took a deep breath before he picked up the smooth paper and flipped it over. In Itachi's sprawling cursive, there was a separate message written on the back.

_Foolish younger brother._

"…."

"SASUKE! STOP! DON'T FLIP YOUR DESK! WAIT! THAT COMPUTER'S EXPENSIVE! SASUKEEEEE!"

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><p>Reviews please! And also review with any suggestions or requests for future one-shots!<p> 


	5. Camp

I can't seem to find the motivation to write lately. But I felt like a jerk since this prompt was given to me months ago. So here it is in all its (limited and sort of non-existent) glory. It's 2 am so sorry for any errors and the like.

Enjoy!

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><p><span>Camp<span>

(Suggested by teamTHEFT)

"You made out with WHO?" Ino half-screeched as she jumped out of her seat. Sakura turned bright red as she lunged across the table and clamped her hand firmly over her friend's mouth. She drilled holes into Ino's face with her fierce gaze until Ino reluctantly bit back her words and sat back down. Sakura pulled her hand away and settled back in her seat too, ignoring the stares of the café's other patrons. And after a little bit, everyone went back to chatting and enjoying their overpriced, sugary beverages.

"Like I just said, Ino. I. Don't. Know," Sakura ground out before she took a giant sip of her iced latte. Beside her, wedged into the corner of the booth, sat Hinata, lavender eyes wide with disbelief.

"But Sakura… This was at Naruto's party last week, right? We know who was there," Hinata pointed out. For a minute, Sakura's eyes lit up. But then, she let out a huge sigh and let her head loll back against her shoulder.

"Anyone could have snuck in, Hinata," Ino countered with an equally sullen expression. The girls regarded each other before they let out simultaneous sighs.

"Well… I guess you won't have much time to worry about it for the next three weeks," Ino concluded with a bright smile. Sakura perked up a little at the thought. Tonight was their last night to enjoy the comforts of home before they left for camp in the morning. The three had met at the same camp eight years ago and it had been their unspoken promise to go every summer since. And now that they were finally freshmen in college, it was their turn to become counselors (with extremely good pay, of course).

"And we'll see Sasuke and the boys this year so cheer up, girlie," Ino chimed in, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. And despite her efforts to keep a straight face, when Hinata giggled, Sakura couldn't help but burst out laughing.

The next day, the trio piled into Ino's battered but well-loved car and headed off to the campsite located in the mountains. During the three-hour drive, they sang along to the radio and teased Hinata over her new boyfriend, earning a fair share of arm-swatting and giggling. By the time they pulled into the small parking lot of Camp Flair, they had gone through an entire liter of soda and a bag of potato chips. Sakura hopped out of the car and looped around to pop the trunk open when she heard a loud shout.

"Hinata!"

Sakura snorted as she looked up and saw Naruto running out of one of the wooden cabins. He threw his arms around Hinata and swung her around once before setting her back on the ground. And even though she was blushing furiously, Hinata managed a coherent greeting (making Sakura very proud in the process).

"Good timing! We're setting up decorations in the dining hall. Come help us," Naruto insisted, grabbing Hinata's hand. She hesitated for a moment, looking back at Sakura and Ino unloading their duffel bags from the car. But Sakura caught her look and rolled her eyes.

"Go with Romeo, Juliet. We're staying in the same cabin anyway," Sakura laughed, waving a hand in their direction. Naruto winked at her over Hinata's shoulder before he dragged his girlfriend along to the other side of camp. So Sakura, a duffel bag in each hand, trekked alone to the cabins on the south side, closest to the lake. She paused a few times to catch her breath and readjust her grip on the straps. About halfway, both of the bags were lifted away from her. Sakura blinked owlishly as she peered over her shoulder, words of gratitude rolling off the tip of her tongue. But all words stopped short when she caught sight of his face. She slowly felt herself growing redder until she cleared her throat and fanned herself with her hand.

"Well…. This is awkward," he chuckled after the awkward silence and Sakura nodded mutely.

"Which cabin?" he inquired. Sakura cleared her throat again as she rubbed the back of her neck.

"Um, number 4," Sakura said, pointing at the building down the dirt path. Without another word, he nodded and began walking towards the cabin, carrying her luggage along with Hinata's. Sakura hesitated for a second before she jogged to catch up with him. Twigs crunched loudly under their feet as they silently made their way to the cabin, Sakura stealing glances at her unexpected companion. When they climbed the wooden steps, she fully expected him to drop the bags and go off on his way. But he instead held the door open for her and followed her inside, neatly depositing the luggage by the bunk bed reserved for counselors.

"Thank you," Sakura stiffly said as she tried to look at anywhere but at him.

"I'm Itachi Uchiha," he said, holding his hand out to her. Sakura sighed as she shook his hand.

"Sakura Haruno. This seems a little backwards," she admitted with a sheepish smile. Itachi chuckled.

"It does," he agreed before he quickly changed subjects, saying, "We should head to the dining hall to help with decorations." Although she was unconvinced by his attempt to avoid the topic, she smiled pleasantly and accompanied him to the other side of camp.

His name was Itachi Uchiha.

As in Uchiha.

As in Sasuke's older brother.

As in the older brother of the boy she had hooked up with more than once…. A lot more than once.

And she had made out with him at Naruto's party without realizing any of this.

When they were huddled around the campfire later that night, Sakura had whispered her revelation to Ino and Hinata. Although Hinata had expressed her surprise with wide eyes and a little gasp, Ino, who was humanly incapable of being subtle, had shouted out a string of profanities, earning a lot of curious stares. Sakura scowled furiously as she clamped her hand over Ino's mouth. When Ino had made it clear that she would try to be quieter, Sakura removed her hand and settled for staring broodingly into the fire. Through the flames, she saw Sasuke chatting with Naruto. For a moment, their eyes met and the corner of Sasuke's mouth twitched up into a knowing smile.

Sakura groaned, slapping herself in the forehead.

The next day, campers poured into the camp in a flurry of tearful parents and hectic sorting of luggage. By the time everyone was checked in, fed, informed of rules and sent to bed, it was 11 pm. Sakura, fresh out of the shower, rubbed at her wet hair with a towel as she perched on the edge of her bed. Hinata sat in the top bunk, brushing her hair by the light of a flashlight so they wouldn't wake the campers. After a few minutes, Hinata switched the light off and settled under the covers to sleep. Sakura lingered, tousling her wet hair and stretching before she climbed into bed. But after a few minutes of tossing and turning, she threw her hoodie on, jammed her feet into sneakers, and quietly slipped out of the cabin. To her surprise, there was someone doing the same at the cabin to her right. They both froze for a moment.

"Can't sleep?" Itachi called as he leaned against the railing of the narrow porch. Sakura smiled as she nodded.

"I'm more of a night owl," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. She sighed as she swatted a particularly high-pitched mosquito away from her ear. She stared out into the woods, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. Gradually, the trees sharpened, changing from dark blobs to defined shapes. The soft coo of owls washed over her, mixing in with the occasional snore traveling from Naruto and Sasuke's cabin on her left. Sakura heaved another sigh as she zipped up her hoodie and climbed down the creaky wooden steps. As she took a few steps down the path, she was interrupted by footsteps following close after her. Hands jammed into the front pockets of her hoodie, Sakura twisted around to see Itachi jogging to catch up to her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, arching an eyebrow at him. She tried to ignore the fact that in his dark t-shirt, despite the darkness, she could see how toned his arms were.

"It's not safe for anyone to be alone this late at night in the woods," he replied with a shrug. She narrowed her eyes at him, lips puckering as she surveyed his nonchalant expression. After a long moment, she shrugged.

"Suit yourself," Sakura said as she turned around and began travelling down the dirt path that had been flattened by years of feet stomping through. After a few minutes, she emerged from the densely packed clump of trees and found herself by the lake. The soothing lap of waves against the shore was a familiar sound. Kicking her shoes off, she buried her bare toes in the cool sand and let out another sigh. But this time, it was a sound of relief rather than one of exasperation. She wasn't even annoyed when Itachi walked up beside her, his feet sinking into the sand too. She felt his eyes on her and she turned to him.

"What?" she laughed as she looked up at him. The intensity in his gaze threw her off for a moment. Something about the way he focused all his attention about her made heat rise to her cheeks.

"Nothing," Itachi replied with a crooked tilt of his mouth that surface hazy memories of a dark basement and loud techno music.

"Stop staring at me then," she grumped as she tore her eyes from him to stare out at the lake. And she scowled fiercely as she felt, rather than heard, him laughing at her.

His name was Itachi Uchiha and somehow he came from the same parents as Sasuke.

Sure, the dark hair, dark eyes and gorgeous face were all there.

But it was something about the way he used his face that felt different.

Like during swimming lessons, when the campers weren't looking and while Sasuke was obviously trying to charm her (strangely enough, it had worked before, but his smolder was less tempting than usual), Itachi would look her way and smile and it was enough to make her grin like an idiot back at him.

Or when everyone was gathered around the campfire, roasting marshmallows and singing along to Naruto's guitar, Itachi would settle on the log beside her and hand her branch speared with crisp marshmallows burnt just enough. And the way he laughed at her jokes would make her secretly giggle like a silly little girl.

And he was insanely cultured.

This was coming from the Comparative Literature major.

There wasn't a book he hadn't read and his little rant about Nabokov's genius was enough to send her into wild fits of squealing as she recounted their conversation later to Hinata and Ino.

At the end of the three weeks, Sakura found herself looking for him every time she was leading her little campers to the dining hall or when she was heading to the counselors' meeting every night after dinner. At the dance on the last night, she stood, back to the wall, trying her best not to seem too disinterested as Sasuke inched closer and closer. When his hand found its way to her waist, she quickly excused herself to get some water from the refreshment table. At the same time that she went to grab a cup, she saw a hand that she had begun to recognize. Itachi stood on the other side of the table, a knowing smile curling his lips.

"Smooth retreat," he snorted and Sakura stuck her tongue out at him. He didn't respond as she filled a cup with soda and took a few sips.

"Dance with me," Itachi suddenly said as he took hold of her wrist. Sakura barely had time to put down her cup before she was swept onto the mostly empty dance floor. It was at that exact moment that the DJ decided to switch to a slow song. Sakura caught sight of Ino hovering close to the DJ and she narrowed her eyes at her. Ino blew a kiss at her in response.

"I'm not a really good dancer," Sakura quietly admitted as she looked up at Itachi. He laughed at her flustered expression and simply grasped her awkward hands, pulling them so that they rested on his shoulders. His hands settled lightly on her waist, enough for her not to feel too embarrassed. They swayed together to the beat, rotating in a slow circle. Gradually, more couples filtered onto the dance floor. Round, childish faces alight with excitement danced all around them and Sakura felt a swell of affection for all of these teenagers and pre-teens trying to find their footing. When she turned her attention back to Itachi, he was looking down at her in that way that let her know that he wasn't thinking about anything but her.

"What?" she demanded in her sassiest tone with a little toss of her head, teasing him again.

"You're really beautiful," Itachi candidly replied. Sakura felt her face promptly flush as she stared at him.

"I really want to kiss you right now," he continued in his perfectly calm tone, like people said stuff like that all the time.

"You're really weird," she finally said, looking away from him. She felt his fingers loosen slightly on her waist at her reaction. But a smile crept onto her face as she glanced at him.

"But I wouldn't mind if you kissed me right now," Sakura admitted with a small laugh.

And, to her delight (and to the delight of all the campers around them), he did kiss her.

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><p>Review with more prompts and requests please!<p> 


	6. Puddles

Ugh. So much fluff. But Teenage Crisis did request a more light-hearted story so here this is. Hope you all enjoy!

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><p><span>Puddles<span>

(suggested by Teenage Crisis)

Something was different.

Sakura's fingers froze over the keyboard as she tried to figure out what had suddenly changed. She looked over her shoulder at her home office. There was the usual splashing of the fish tank in the corner and the comforting hum of her laptop underneath her palm. When she reached out and nudged the blinds aside, she saw what had caught her attention. She settled back in her chair with a sigh and it creaked under her weight.

It was raining again.

Just a light drizzle, enough to wet the grass and to dampen the hazy summer air.

Sakura let her head loll back against the back of the chair, eyes sliding shut. She could almost feel his warm breath in her ear.

_Good morning, sweetheart._

With the gentle patter of raindrops hitting the window, he would press his lips against her shoulder while she pretended to still be asleep. He would always linger in bed, tickling her tummy and throat with the lightest kisses until she finally opened her eyes. And he would kiss her scowling mouth until it turned up in a smile and his long hair would fall in a dark curtain around them.

Sakura's eyes snapped open. She pressed her palms to her tired eyes, trying to erase the memories playing over and over inside her head. A quick peek at the clock told her it was already 11 o'clock; she had forgotten to eat breakfast again. She glanced back at her laptop. Her deadline was in a week and she still had an absurd amount of chapters to finish before she could send anything to her editor. After a moment, she decided that her rumbling stomach won and went downstairs to the kitchen. The coffee she had brewed last night was still warming in the carafe so she poured herself a cup, heaping generous spoonfuls of powdered creamer and sugar into the dark liquid. As she stirred, the earthy fragrance of coffee permeated the kitchen and her stomach growled angrily.

"Calm down," she muttered as she turned to the refrigerator and yanked the door open.

A jar of grape jelly, half of a shriveled grapefruit, and some ancient boxes of Thai takeout were all that was left. When she checked the freezer, there was nothing but about two-thirds of a handle of vanilla vodka.

"I guess I need to go shopping," Sakura groaned as she closed both doors. She dug inside the cookie jar hidden behind the coffee maker to pull out a few bills for grocery money. After a little excavation, she managed to dig her phone out of her purse. Grabbing her favorite clear umbrella, she left the house. Her flip-flops squelched through the pools of water that had gathered on the sidewalk and her toes tingled pleasantly in the cool water. The nearest supermarket was only about a fifteen minute walk so she ignored the bus stop near her home and instead popped her earphones in. But when she set her songs to shuffle, the first that came on was one that made her freeze mid-step.

A soft classical piece. Trilling piano that made her heart skip a beat.

It had always been his favorite song.

_You know, my mother used to ask me to play this piece for her over and over again._

His cheek was resting against the top of her head. She was sitting between his bent legs, leaning comfortably against his chest. The comforting scent of his cologne was washing over her and she had turned her head to bury her nose against the collar of his shirt.

_Hey. Pay attention to the song._

She remembered sticking her tongue out at him and him laughing at her antics, good-humored as always. And she could hear it, the trickling notes of the piano that sounded like flowing water. One of his arms was wrapped around her waist, the other tapping imaginary notes out on her palm.

A car honked impatiently at her as it waited for her to cross the street. Jolting out of her thoughts, Sakura raised her hand apologetically and hurried across, quietly berating herself. It had been over a month since she had last seen him and it was silly to be thinking of him still. From what her friends told her, he seemed to be doing quite well so it was up to her to do the same.

She shook her umbrella before she stepped into the supermarket and grabbed a basket. After perusing the produce section, and grabbing a carton of eggs, she headed to pay for her food. On the way out, she caught sight of the smaller separate store that sold just alcohol. Although the handle in her freezer would probably last a while, she couldn't help notice that she had some grocery money left over. So she made a beeline straight for the stacked display of rum. As she reached for a bottle to examine the label, a hand knocked against hers and she automatically drew her hand back.

"Sorry," she automatically said.

"Sakura?"

She looked to her left and found Itachi standing with his arm still outstretched for the bottle.

"Oh."

They regarded each other for a moment. She found her eyes drifting over the lean muscles of his arms and the faint outline of his sculpted chest underneath his v-neck t-shirt. Realizing she was staring, she looked back up at his face only to realize that he was doing the same to her. She cleared her throat and his eyes met hers.

"How have you been?" he finally asked and she self-consciously tried to fix her messy bangs.

"I've been good. You?" she returned.

"I've been good too," he replied and an awkward silence passed between them.

"You look great," Itachi stated and Sakura tried her best not to blush.

"Thanks," she quietly responded and he smiled sheepishly at her. His expression hurt her.

They had been together nearly a year, shared every hope, whispered every wish. She didn't remember what had happened or who had started it, but she had accused him of loving his job more than he cared for her. He had called her a silly dreamer and told her that he was sick of watching her struggle to write a novel without producing results. It was then that all those precious moments they had shared had turned to ammunition. Their shared secrets had turned to cruel barbs that twisted and hurt in all the worst ways. She had stormed out with tears brimming in her eyes.

"Do you… want to get coffee?" Itachi offered and she tried to quell the excitement that rose in her chest.

"Um… I'm sorry. I have a deadline so I really should be getting back to work," she said and his smile immediately faded.

"I see. Well…"

"It was good seeing you. Take care," Sakura quickly said, holding out her free hand. They briefly shook hands before Sakura unseeingly grabbed whatever bottle of rum was closest and hurried to pay for it. In the quiet drizzle of rain, she huddled under her umbrella and practically ran home, trying to forget the brief warmth of his palm touching hers. Once home, she tore open a package of instant macaroni and cheese and wolfed it down while it was still hot from the microwave before she cracked open the rum and refilled her mug halfway with fresh coffee before filling up the rest with spicy rum.

"Fuck this," she muttered as she plopped down in front of her computer with the cup. Taking a hearty gulp, she set to typing furiously until the noise of the keys drowned out the quiet drumming of rain against the roof. As the cup gradually drained, the blank pages filled with words and words and more words until she found her fingers typing out the last sentence she had been saving in the back of her head: _The crimson sunset spilled over the horizon, painting everything an unbearably deep shade that brought tears to the eyes_.

Pumping her fist triumphantly into the air, she dialed her editor's number and held the phone up to her ear. There was a groggy "hello" and Sakura laughed.

"It's Sakura."

"Oh my gosh! Please! Don't tell me you broke your hand or that you have writer's block!" her editor immediately pleaded. Sakura snorted.

"Worry not, fair lady. Everything's done. I just emailed it to you now," Sakura retorted.

"You? Finish a full seven days early? Are you alright?" she said with thick skepticism and Sakura scowled.

"Thanks. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a month's-worth of TV shows to catch up on," Sakura said before she hung up. She got to her feet, stretching her arms high over her head. When she craned her neck to check the clock, she found that it was nearly 1 am. As if to prove it, her entire body ached, as if protesting being stuck in a chair for hours on end. Sighing, she shed her clothes and headed off to take a long, hot bath. And even though the warm water soothed her body, she found that the extra-strong coffee was doing its job a little too well.

With a towel wrapped around her middle, she peered past the curtains in her bedroom and found that it was still raining. She dressed in shorts and a tank top and curled up on her sofa with the television tuned to a rerun of some old soap opera. It didn't take long for the droning television and the white noise of the rain to lull her to sleep.

The next morning, she was woken by insistent pounding on her door. It was probably Naruto complaining about another mouse in his apartment. Either way, she was awake, so she climbed off the couch and stumbled to the door. Eyes still squinty with sleep, she opened the door, already groaning.

"Naruto, I keep telling you. Use a jar and get the stupid mouse," she spat before fully opening her eyes and realizing that it wasn't Naruto at all. Instead, Itachi was standing on her front steps. His eyes wide with surprise.

"What are you-" Sakura began to demand before he quickly grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her inside, closing the door with his foot.

"What is **wrong** with you!" she exclaimed as she shoved him away and crossed her arms over her chest. But he seemed unaffected by her anger as he scowled at her.

"What's wrong with **me**? What are you doing opening the door like that? What if I had been some strange man?" Itachi yelled back at her and Sakura scoffed.

"You **are** a strange man, Itachi," she retorted but he didn't seem at all amused.

"And what's wrong with the way I'm dressed? It's my house!" Sakura added, bristling. Itachi stared down at her and for one awful moment, she thought he would start really shouting at her. Instead, he was suddenly sighing wearily, his shoulders slumping. And that was when she made an awful mistake. She looked straight into his eyes. She had forgotten just how beautiful and compelling they were. And she had grown to know that more than anything, more than his words and more than his facial expressions, his eyes were capable of conveying so much. So when their gazes met, she nearly forgot to breathe at the intensity she found there.

"Answering the door… looking like that. Are you trying to kill me?" he said in such a low voice that she immediately felt a blush rise to her cheeks. She looked down at her thin pajamas and cleared her throat loudly.

"We're broken up, remember? It's none of your concern what I wear anymore," she sniffed.

"Sakura," Itachi sighed, taking her arm. She shrugged him off.

"I didn't say you could touch me, Itachi," she snapped. At this, a faint smirk curled at his lips.

"Do you want me to ask permission then?" he asked and she shot him a withering stare.

"Alright. Miss Haruno, would you allow me to kiss you since you look so utterly tempting?" he requested in his most posh voice and she fought a smile. Forcing her most impressive frown, she glared up at him.

"I'm still mad at you. My dream is not stupid," she said.

"And I'm still mad at you. I can't believe you'd think I care about my job more than I care about you," he replied. When she continued to glower at him, his smile faded.

"I apologize for the things I said. And I promise to not be so absorbed in my work all the time," he relented and her frown softened a little.

"….I'm sorry I called you a workaholic asshole…. And a pretentious butt-crack….. and a selfish jackass," she mumbled in response.

"Does this mean you forgive me?" Itachi inquired, looking a little anxious. Sakura pretended to deliberate for a moment, letting him suffer a tiny bit longer before she suddenly rose on her tiptoes and kissed him.

"Maybe," she giggled and a smile spread across his face.

* * *

><p><em>Itachi, I like the rain. It's peaceful, isn't it?<em>

_Mhm. It kind of sounds like music, doesn't it?_

_You're right… it does. Hey, did you know that The New York Times listed my book as a bestseller?_

_...I thought you said you forgave me about that._

_Hmmm…. Nope. You're going to have to do a looooot of kissing up for me to get over that._

…

_Wait! No! Not actual kissing! That tickles! Stop it!_


	7. Red

I had a lot of trouble writing this one (hence the massive delay). I apologize for the sadness but I've been reading a lot of Victor Hugo and Charles Baudelaire so please blame the dead.

Enjoy.

* * *

><p><span>Red<span>

(suggested by wingedmercury)

If there was any word to describe Uchiha Itachi as he stood at the bus stop, it was would be two-syllables, simple and rather easy to define:

Grumpy.

He had been late to work for the first time in his life. His car's engine had inexplicably decided to implode in a large plume of smoke that morning and for some reason, taxis suddenly gave a wide berth to his part of the city. Never mind that his toaster had spewed out charred bricks that had once been bread and that he had spilt coffee on his favorite shirt, forcing him to change.

Oh. And as soon as he got to the bus stop, it had started raining.

What a perfect morning.

Even though he had an umbrella, the water splashed up onto his pants and his shoes. And the miserable cold that usually came with rain decided to hit him straight in the face. Still, he was an Uchiha, brought up to hold his composure even if everything else had decided to collapse. So, Itachi stood, straight-faced, as he waited for thirty minutes in the rain.

For a fucking bus so he could go home.

"Why?" he sighed heavily as he shoved his free hand into his pockets. His knuckles had started to go numb from the cold.

"Bad day, mister?" a voice chirruped, interrupting his silent stewing. Itachi slowly looked over to his left and saw a girl standing to his right. She was wearing a white eyelet dress under a grey cardigan. When she turned to look at him, her pink hair fell into her face and she tossed her head, revealing bright green eyes.

"Not exactly a good one," he flatly replied, glancing down at his watch. She giggled as she kicked her red rain boots through a large puddle near her feet, spraying droplets onto the street.

"That's too bad. I can lend you an ear if you want," the girl offered as she turned to look at him. When she tilted her head to the side, he saw a faint red line on the side of her throat. Itachi didn't say anything as he went back to craning his neck to see if the bus was rumbling down the street.

"I'm a good listener. That's what everyone tells me, you know," she continued. As she spoke, she twirled her cherry-colored umbrella, flicking cold drops into the air.

"It's not a very interesting story," he shortly said but her smile seemed unaffected.

"Someone's in a bad mood. Would it cheer you up if I told you a story then?"

"If I say yes, will you stop talking afterwards?" he asked and she pressed her lips together as she nodded. So, he heaved a deep sigh and motioned for her to speak.

"When I was little, I had my first huge fight with my best friend and I came home really upset. My dad was trying to cheer me up and he picked up a wooden mallet and hit the table with it, telling me that if I hit something else, I would forget about feeling bad. So he handed me the hammer and I picked it up and swung it right into his shin."

When she finished her story, she looked up, giggling a little. Itachi felt the corner of his mouth lift.

"Did that make you feel better, mister?" the girl asked expectantly and he slowly nodded.

"Well that's good because your bus is here. Have a nice day!" As she spoke, Itachi glanced down the street and found his bus puttering down in their direction. She waved once at him as the bus ground to a halt, groaning as the doors slid open. He nodded in her direction before he closed his umbrella and stepped onto the vehicle. When he settled in an empty seat, he turned his head to look down at the bus stop, only to find it empty. Shrugging, he faced forward and let his weary head sag back against the seat.

The next day, he had a tow truck drag away his car to be repaired in the morning. And, of course, since he had to wait for a bus to get to and from work, it had to be raining.

Nature could never be cooperative. After a long day of boring meetings and ridiculously monotonous assignments, he emerged from the office and managed to make it to the bus stop. He had forgotten his umbrella at the office and he was forced to hunch over in his coat, hands jammed in his pockets while cold water pelted down on his head as he sat on the equally soaked bench.

"Guess today's not a good day either," a vaguely familiar voice commented. As he lifted his head, he heard the pop of an umbrella opening and a flash of bright red boots. The girl smiled down at him as she took a few steps closer and held the umbrella over both of them.

"Hi again," she greeted him and he waved weakly.

"Break your umbrella?"

"I forgot it."

"That was stupid of you, mister."

"…. Thank you. I was unaware of that."

He sat up straight, shaking his head once to get the water out of his hair and eyes. She leaned over to look into his face and he eyed her with confusion. When their gazes met, she simply grinned.

"Sorry but I don't have any stories to cheer you up with today," she said with a shrug and Itachi sighed as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"I wasn't planning on asking for one so thanks," he replied.

"Che. Fine," she sniffed as she tilted her umbrella back so that it only covered her. Itachi winced as cold rain poured down on his head again and he looked up, indignant and disbelieving. She smirked triumphantly as she readjusted the umbrella so it covered both of them again.

"Don't be mean, mister," the girl scolded as she wrinkled her nose at him. Itachi responded by wringing out his hair and snorting.

The next day was sunny and mild, a perfect spring day. His car was still in the shop so he was forced to rely on public transportation yet again. But for some reason, as if some cruel deity was laughing at him, he flagged down a taxi as soon as he left his loft apartment and the baristas at the coffee shop on the way to work managed to get his order right. When he stepped into the office, none of the other employees had blown up the copy machine or broken the water cooler.

And she wasn't there.

He had half-expected her to greet him in her chipper voice and try to strike up conversation again. Itachi shrugged as he saw his bus rumbling down towards him. She looked young, probably a high school student. She had probably had to stay behind at school for some extracurricular activity. Or maybe she had taken an earlier bus. But he quickly forgot about the strange girl. He had reports to write, letters to photocopy and presentations to make. His car made it back from the shop and his morning commute became a lot shorter again. The rainy season in Konoha passed quickly, followed quickly by the dry, blazing summer that he had always come to dread.

One particularly scorching day, after an endless day of problems and broken air conditioners in the office, Itachi finally finished his work and made it to his car. Just as he reached for his seatbelt, a few drops of rain kissed his windshield. The clear droplets of water reminded him of the girl with strange pink hair and wide smile. So for some reason, he decided to deviate from the usual route to drive past the bus stop on the way home. As he cruised past, he saw her, scarlet umbrella and rain boots. Their eyes met and she waved at him.

A week later, his car wheezed its last dying breath and crapped out on him altogether. So instead of spending a ridiculous amount of money trying to repair the goner, Itachi sold the hunk of aluminum to the junkyard and instead took the bus. But the half-hour wait every day after work didn't seem nearly as miserable when it rained. He stopped carrying an umbrella because he knew she would always be at the bus stop, eyes laughing.

"Are you on your way back from school?" Itachi asked one day as she settled on the bench beside him and held the umbrella over both of them.

"No. The hospital. My dad's sick," she softly said. He turned his head and she was holding the umbrella with tight fingers. She looked up at the inside of the umbrella.

"I just wish he knew I was there," she added with a long sigh. Raising an eyebrow, Itachi thought over what little medical knowledge he possessed.

"Does your father have Alzheimer's?" Itachi inquired and the girl shook her head fiercely, making it clear that she didn't want to talk about it any longer. So he let the subject drop. But it hovered over them. Even though she tried to smile and talk about other things, her usual cheeriness was perhaps one notch dimmer.

He learned a lot of things about her.

She was studying to be a veterinarian at the nearby university. She liked sweet food. She also liked spicy food but couldn't handle it very well. On the weekends she liked to play tennis with her friends or watch scary movies. There was a scar on her shin from where she had fallen saving a dog from a car. She loved summer, the ocean breeze and clouds.

At first, her openness had thrown him. But it was nice. After a long day of work, sitting down and listening to her talk excitedly about her classes or a new food she had tried was amusing. It was easy to forget the stress that had piled up inside. There were times when she was the quiet one and he knew that things hadn't gone well with her dad at the hospital.

"It's really scary…. Seeing him so thin. There are tubes everywhere and all the nurses look so sad whenever they write down new things on his chart," she admitted one cool spring day. It was drizzling just enough that they were sitting together on the bench, huddled under one umbrella. Itachi didn't say anything. What was there to say?

Itachi sighed heavily and the girl did the same just as his bus pulled up at the stop. When Itachi stood, she did too, her clear eyes staring up at him.

"I'm sorry for being so depressing today," she apologized with a sheepish expression. Itachi shook his head as he picked up his damp briefcase.

"I'm sorry I don't really know how to make you feel better. I hope your father's condition improves," he said and her eyes seemed a little less sad. The doors of the bus screeched open and he put his foot on the lowest step, ready to climb on. But on an impulse, he turned and patted the top of the girl's head, hoping that he would be able to convey his feelings better that way. His hand, however, didn't make contact with soft pink hair. It was like he had simply waved his hand through the air. She immediately looked panicked, jerking away from him. Blushing and stammering furiously, she ran off, her red umbrella trailing haphazardly after her.

It rained heavily for the rest of the week.

She didn't show up at the bus stop.

It was only the next week, on a cloudy day, that he saw the telltale crimson of her rain boots. Thick, black clouds had been blocking the sun all day but it hadn't started raining until just before it was time for him to leave work. So, since all the universe and nature hated Itachi, it hadn't started pouring until he had been forced to run to the bus stop. By the time he got there, his clothes were soaked and his hair was plastered to his face. As he raised his hand to try to pull his bangs out of his eyes, he heard a soft voice over the rain.

"I died six months ago." When he pried his hair aside, he saw that she was standing next to him, umbrella angled over him.

"When I tried to save that dog, I ended up running into the street and getting hit by a car," she explained, eyes fixated on her feet.

"Is that why you have that scar there?" Itachi asked carefully. She didn't even need to look at him to know what he was talking about. Carefully, she placed her palm over her throat and nodded.

"I was told that I couldn't move on. They told me that there were too many things tethering me here. So I can only occupy my shadows, the places that meant the most to me." When she finished speaking, she finally raised her head to look at him. Tears were glistening in her eyes as she extended her hand towards him. Itachi held his breath as he reached out to press their palms together. But he couldn't feel anything, like she didn't exist at all.

"Is it your father? Is that why you can't leave?" he inquired after a little thought. She let her hand fall.

"That's part of it," she said with a sad smile that he didn't understand.

"Ah, there's your bus. You better go," she pointed out.

The next day was sunny. Although she hadn't told him anything, he had a feeling that she wouldn't be there. And he was right.

"You're only here when it rains," he said as soon as he saw her. Tilting her head over her shoulder to look at him, she smiled. She was back to her cheerful self, babbling about anything and everything, her arm happily spinning her red umbrella, sending droplets scattering in all directions.

And one day, without any warning, she looked up at him with strangely calm eyes.

"I have to go," she told him. Itachi turned slowly to her, wondering if this was her idea of some cruel joke. But there was no laughter in her expression.

"He died this morning. I was there when they turned off the respirator," she whispered.

"So… you can leave now. You can move on. That's a good thing, right?" Itachi said.

"Not yet. I just need to let you know one thing," she corrected him. They sat that way for a long time. Itachi's bus arrived but he let it move on without a second thought. He waited for her to find the words, for her to gather herself. Her hand looked slightly transparent as she placed it over his, a touch without weight or warmth.

"I used to stand here every day after classes ended. And I would always see you walking out to your car," she finally admitted. Itachi racked his brain, trying to remember if he had ever noticed her. Surely her pink hair wasn't something he would overlook so easily. But there was nothing, no trace of her wide green eyes watching him.

"You never saw me. You were always so busy," she assured him as if she knew what he was thinking.

"I know it seems kind of strange, but I sort of… fell in love with you. The way that you would walk or the way that you would answer the phone and tap your hand against the hood of your car when you talk. But I was too afraid to talk to you, too afraid that I would seem like a stalker," she said, her face turning bright red as she spoke.

Itachi wished desperately in that moment that he could feel her hand. He turned his palm up under hers and she started. Slowly, she threaded her fingers through his. He couldn't feel anything, but she must have because she smiled so brilliantly that his chest hurt.

"Thank you," she whispered in a shaky voice.

"Thank you," she said again and her voice was fainter. The edges of her face began to fade into a soft blur. She stood, still holding onto her bright red umbrella.

"Wait. You never told me your name," Itachi called out.

It reminded him of when he had read _The Little Mermaid_ to his younger brother many years ago. In the end, the mermaid didn't belong in the world she wanted so desperately. So she dissolved into sea foam, scattering on the waves and disappearing as if she had never existed.

The girl smiled with transparent lips.

"Sakura. I'm Sakura," she replied in a soft, vapor-like voice.

And she scattered, shapeless body whispering away on the wind.

The next day, Uchiha Itachi sat alone at the bus stop, his usual black umbrella held above him. He half-expected her to appear, her laugh bubbling up from her smiling mouth. But the monotonous drum of the rain was his only companion.

The days bled into one another. Time passed and the rainy season in Konoha returned again. He pulled some strings through a friend working at city hall and managed to find the records of the sweet girl with pink hair that had died the year before. It took him a while, but he managed to find the will to buy a bouquet of cosmos, the flowers she had admitted to loving so much. He took a day off from work, trekking through the pouring rain to the cemetery. The mud squelched unpleasantly under his shoes with every step he took. But after an hour of scouring names, he found a tombstone that was still white and the name stood out in clear-cut letters that had yet to be dulled by the elements. He stood for a long time, trying to think of something meaningful to say, something that would allow him to walk away from that place with a lighter heart.

But words escaped him so he set the flowers down, stared at her name for a while, and walked away from that place.

* * *

><p><em>Tomorrow, at dawn, at the hour when the countryside is alit,<em>_  
><em>_I will leave. See here, you know what I must do.__  
><em>_I will go through the forest, I will go across the mountain.__  
><em>_I will not remain far from you for long._

_I will trudge on with eyes fixed on my thoughts,__  
><em>_Without seeing what it outside of me, without hearing any noise,__  
><em>_Alone, unknown, bent, with crossed hands,__  
><em>_Sad, and the day will be for me as night._

_I will not notice either the golden sunset as night falls,__  
><em>_Nor the distant mist which descends over Harfleur,__  
><em>_And when I arrive, I will place on your grave__  
><em>_A bouquet of holly and heather in bloom._

-Victor Hugo

* * *

><p>Leave me more suggestions for oneshots in reviews please!<p> 


	8. Winter

Because it's ridiculously warm this winter and I miss Paris, damnit.

* * *

><p><span>Winter<span>

(suggested by h-martness)

"Bonsoir."

At the soft sigh of her greeting, the security guard's shiny head jolted off his chest. Clearing his throat, he rubbed the back of his neck.

"You're heading home rather late, Mademoiselle. Will you be alright?" the guard inquired as he glanced down at his watch. She nodded as she stuck her hands into her favorite fur-lined gloves.

"I'll be fine. Don't work too hard," she replied as she shrugged on her brown leather coat and secured a white scarf around her throat and lower face.

"Have a safe trip, Miss Haruno," the guard called out as she slipped through the revolving door.

Out on the street, Sakura hugged her purse to her side as she braved the blustery streets. The frigid wind seeped into her body and settled deep inside her bones. A tight huff escaped her mouth as she shoved her left hand into her pocket to keep it from freezing. Shivering in her knee-high boots, she hurried down the sidewalk and into the subway station. With a sigh of relief, she swiped her card and pushed past the turnstile. Underground, where the frozen wind couldn't reach, it was far less frigid. Still, her entire body was a block of ice as she rubbed her gloved hands over her arms and shoulders. When the train arrived a few minutes later, she sank into one of the plastic seats close to the door.

All too soon, the train screeched to a halt at her stop. She hunched her shoulders and fought the wind once again as she strode down the wide street that ran along the frosty Senn River. It gurgled unhappily against the cold as she turned onto the narrow road to her apartment.

The old stone building was only three stories high and sat overlooking the icy river that carved its way through the city. She climbed the few steps up to the heavy wooden door that had been repainted a cheerful shade of blue a few months ago. Her teeth chattered furiously as she stuck her key in the lock. She hurried inside, slamming the door shut behind her. In her rush to thaw, she ran straight into an equally frozen back in front of her.

"Oh! _Pardonnez-moi, monsieur_!" she exclaimed as she looked up. But the unmistakable warmth in the man's grey eyes as he turned seemed to melt her frosty limbs. She breathed a soft sigh of relief. Before she could speak, he hooked his arm around her waist and lifted her off the ground to place a cool kiss on her mouth.

"Itachi," she breathed as he set her back on her feet. His lips twitched up into a familiar smile as he leaned over to kiss her forehead. She slipped her hand inside his as they climbed the narrow wooden stairs up to the third floor apartment. Sakura unbuttoned her heavy coat as Itachi unlocked the door and pulled her inside.

"I thought you weren't coming home until tomorrow," Sakura said as she bent over to unzip her boots and toss them in the hall closet. When she straightened, a small black dog came scurrying down the narrow hallway, his ears flopping wildly this way and that. His clipped nails clattered noisily against the floor as his pink tongue lolled out the side of his mouth.

"Choco!" Sakura sang as she scooped the dog up into her arms.

"Did you miss mama?" she cooed, receiving a wet doggy kiss on the nose. When the dog squirmed to look at the doorway leading to the kitchen, Sakura laughed.

"Okay. Go say hi to papa," Sakura said, lowering the dog to the floor. After giving Sakura a lick on the hand, the dog ran off. She listened to Choco give an excited yip and Itachi chuckled. Still shivering, she pulled off her cream-colored sweater as she moved through the apartment to the master bedroom.

"The talks went faster than expected. I caught the earliest flight from Chicago that I could," she heard Itachi explain from the kitchen. The faucet squeaked and a quiet set of beeps mingling with Choco's tiny barks let her know that the coffee machine was running. Sakura listened to Itachi's quiet footsteps travel down the hallway as she pulled off her jeans and sat on the edge of the bed to slide her dark stockings off. When she looked up, Itachi was unknotting his silk tie as he leaned against the doorframe.

"That's good. Have you eaten yet?" Sakura said, leaning back on her hands. She caught the way his eyes slid up her bare legs as she stood. Still, his gaze seemed no less appreciative when she shimmied on an old pair of sweatpants. As she pulled one of Itachi's old t-shirts over her head, she felt him snake his arms around her middle again. He pressed his lips against her throat when her head popped out of the shirt. With a soft sigh, he threaded his fingers into her hair, turning his head to let his nose skim across her skin while she wrestled her arms into the sleeves.

"I'll take that as a 'no'. I'll go make us dinner," she laughed as she pulled free from is embrace. But his hand returned to her waist. He ran the tips of his fingers under the edge of her shirt, warming her still-cool skin.

"Food," she firmly said, grabbing his hands. She stretched up on her tiptoes to peck him on the lips before she slipped out into the hallway.

Dinner was pan-fried fish over pasta along with half a bottle of white wine though Sakura opted for water. After a hot shower, food for Choco and another glass of wine for Itachi, she stood at the dresser. In the mirror, she watched Itachi climb into bed.

"What time's your flight tomorrow?" he asked as he pulled the tie out of his dark hair. She pulled a comb through her damp locks as she glanced down at the itinerary on the dresser.

"Noon," she replied, pulling her hair into a bun on top of her head.

"What time should we leave for the airport? 11?" he said as he settled the covers comfortably across his chest. Sakura, who was rubbing lotion into her face, paused. She turned to face him while she massaged the rest thoroughly into her skin.

"Ok," she agreed with a smile.

"Ok," Itachi repeated back. After a moment, he reached over to switch off the lamps on the twin nightstands. Sakura slipped into her side of the bed, pulling the warm covers over her shoulders. The dog hopped onto the bed to snuggle up at their feet. She sighed happily as she curled up against Itachi's side. He moved his arm so she could rest her head on his shoulder. Just as her eyelids grew heavy, Itachi's soft tenor parted the silence.

"Sakura?"

"Hmm?" she sleepily replied as she twined their fingers together.

"Do me a favor… and don't torture my brother."

"I'll try my best."

The next morning, they had a late breakfast of coffee and toast before Itachi drove her to Charles de Gaulle airport. Security was simple and the people were sparse so they arrived at the gate rather quickly. When the stewardesses called for passengers to start boarding, Itachi reluctantly handed over her red suitcase. His fingers lingered over hers as she gripped the black handle.

"Oh, don't make that face. I'll see you in a couple days," she huffed as she looked up at his troubled expression. Sakura frowned as they looked at each other. But after a moment, she let her arms fall to her sides.

"Don't work too hard and don't spoil Choco too much," she said, reaching out to fix the lapels of his jacket. Itachi took her hands in his.

"I'll miss you," he quietly said.

"I'll miss you too," she replied with a quick peck on the lips. Itachi cupped her cheeks in his big hands, pulling her in for another gentle kiss.

"Be safe," he murmured into her temple as he held her close.

The seven hour flight from Paris was uneventful. Sakura mostly slept in the comfortable 1st class seat, only waking once to eat dinner and to use the bathroom. When she walked into the airport with stiff limbs and a headache, she picked up her luggage and loaded it into her rented car. After a quick espresso from a nearby coffee shop, Sakura drove down the deserted highway to a familiar house. When she pulled into the paved driveway, she was surprised to see the front door flung open.

"Sakura!" His voice exploded outward before Naruto ran outside wearing orange pajama pants and furry frog slippers. As soon as she got out of the car, Sakura found herself lifted off the snow-covered ground in a tight hug.

"Good to see you too, Naruto," Sakura laughed. Naruto spun her around once before setting her back on her feet. He grinned brightly, towering nearly a foot above her now. Sakura pressed quick kisses to his cheeks before she looped around the car to pop the trunk open. But before she could touch her suitcase, Naruto was swatting her hands away. Sakura sighed as she let Naruto lift her bag out of the trunk and set it on the snowy ground. For good measure, he squeezed her again before he threw his free arm over his shoulder and led her back to the house, stubbornly dragging her suitcase along. When she stepped into the house, Sakura stood in the foyer pulling off her boots and lining them up against the wall. As she began unbuttoning her red pea coat, she was greeted with a high-pitched squeal.

"SAKURA!" Ino exclaimed from the top of the stairs. Before Sakura could react, the other woman had raced downstairs and enveloped Sakura in a bone-crushing embrace. Over Ino's shoulder, Sakura saw Shikamaru slowly lumber down the stairs with his hands shoved into his pajama pockets. He yawned widely as he lifted a hand in greeting, eyes barely open.

"Good to see you too, Ino. But I can't breathe," Sakura wheezed, gingerly patting her friend's shoulder. When Ino finally relaxed her tight hold, Sakura reached past her to give Shikamaru a hug too.

"Where's the blushing bride-to-be?" Sakura inquired when she glanced around the room.

"She wanted to stay up and wait for you, but she's been so stressed out lately. And Ino started wailing that staying up late would ruin her skin so I sent her to bed," Naruto replied, glancing toward the stairs. But his pleasant grin faded and Sakura, curious, followed his line of sight.

"Sasuke."

A sudden cold settled over the warm reunion. Shikamaru's arm, which had been slung comfortably over her shoulder, suddenly tightened and Sakura felt Ino's hands fumble to grab hers. To most people, it looked like they were trying to protect her. But everyone there knew that they were doing so to stop Sakura from tearing Sasuke's head off his shoulders.

"Sorry. Did we wake you?" Ino asked, forcing herself so hard to smile that she looked like she was in pain.

"I wasn't sleeping," Sasuke flatly replied, running his hand through his dark hair. Sakura bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something extremely rude. Naruto looked back and forth between his friends, face scrunching up with anxiety. Sasuke, with his messy, spiky hair and arrogant way of staring down at people, looking straight at her and his eyebrows rose. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. He blinked a few times before his forehead knitted.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded flatly. Everyone froze as Sakura's jaw locked, teeth clicking together. She took a deep breath through her nose, trying to calm down.

"I'm here for two of my best friends' wedding. Why are you here? Weren't you busy banging that Swedish supermodel?" she innocently said back, crossing her arms over her chest. Sasuke scowled down at her.

"Norwegian," he corrected her without humor. Naruto gulped audibly as he looked between his two best friends in the world, cringing and wringing his hands. Ever since they were kids, Sasuke and Sakura had just been unable to get along. Most of their exchanges had ended in either Sasuke with a bruise or Sakura storming off and refusing to speak to either of them for a while. And right now, Sakura was remaining so unusually pleasant and calm that Naruto could almost see the vein throbbing in Sasuke's forehead.

"It's late. I bet you're tired from travelling, Sakura. We kept Ino away from your room," Naruto quickly interjected with a nervous laugh. Sakura tore her eyes away from Sasuke as she looked over at her friends. Guilt washed over her. She hadn't seen her best friends in five years and she felt a little ashamed to be growling angrily at Sasuke as soon as she was back in the states. Her shoulders relaxed. Ino gave her one last hug before she and Shikamaru quietly slipped back to their room on the first floor while Naruto picked up her suitcase and took her by the elbow, brushing past Sasuke on the way up.

"I'm sorry, Naruto. I'll try to be more patient with him," Sakura sighed as they climbed the steps together. Naruto chuckled.

"You guys have been at each other's throats since we were 6. Don't worry about it," Naruto snorted as they stopped in front of the door at the end of the hall. Sakura smiled as she extended her arms for a hug and he obliged, squeezing her extra-tight.

"Good night," he said as he turned and slipped into the room across the hall.

"Night," she whispered. When the house had fallen silent again, Sakura turned the doorknob and slipped into the guestroom reserved for her, dragging her suitcase along behind her. The walls were a cool shade of blue and the floor a soft tone of beige wood reminiscent of sand. The queen-sized bed was perfectly made, white covers tucked in neatly. On top of the dresser was a pair of fluffy pink slippers along with a fresh set of towels that Hinata had undoubtedly left for her. Sakura crossed the rom as she unraveled her scarf and shed her coat. As she tossed them over the back of the armchair by the window, her cell phone rang.

"Allo?" she said as she touched the green button on the screen and wedged it between her ear and shoulder.

"Settling in?" Itachi inquired. She could hear the hum of copy machines and phones in the background.

"I was just getting ready for bed. Your brother's gotten even surlier," Sakura complained as she sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her socks.

"I don't believe that's possible, chérie," Itachi remarked and she laughed.

"Choco's been looking for you in the bathroom and in your closet," he informed her. Sakura hummed noncommittally as she reached around to the back of her skirt. The noise of her zipper made Itachi stop talking.

"Was that what I think it was?" he inquired. Sakura pressed the screen, switching on speakerphone and tossed the phone onto the bed. She deliberately slowed her movement as she dragged the zipper down slowly. There was a slight pause.

"I'm at work right now. Don't tempt me, Sakura," he quietly warned.

"Okay. I'll be good and go to bed in that red silk slip you love. Goodnight," she sang innocently. Right before she hung up, she heard his harried sigh and laughed.

* * *

><p>She ended up sleeping straight through breakfast, waking only when the sound of Naruto's raucous laughter echoed up the stairs. Sakura groaned as she snuggled deeper under the blankets. But when the smell of food drifted up, she reluctantly rolled out of bed, landing gracelessly on her back. Still groggy, she sat up and rubbed at her eyes.<p>

"Someone go wake Sakura!" she heard Naruto holler, followed by the clatter of plates.

"Hey Sasuke! Go apologize to Sakura for being an ass and then tell her to come eat something," Naruto ordered. Sakura cringed as she listened to Naruto's cheerful plan as she hoisted herself off the floor and quickly ran her brush through her messy hair. Just as she managed to tame the mop of pink atop her head, there was a light knock on the door.

"Come in," she called as she grabbed her short white robe from her suitcase and shook it to smooth out the wrinkles.

"Lunch," Sasuke flatly said, poking his head in as he clearly pretended to be deaf to the first part of Naruto's instructions. Sakura nodded curtly as she pulled her sleeves through the robe and pulled her hair over the collar.

"What?" she demanded when she turned around and found Sasuke still standing there.

"Have your boobs shrunk?"

"_CASSE-TOI_!" Sakura shrieked, flinging her hairbrush at the door. Sasuke shrugged unapologetically as he ducked and slipped away with his hands undoubtedly jammed into his pockets. Still fuming, Sakura stuffed her feet into slippers and muttered angrily to herself as she stormed down the stairs and through the living room.

"Whoa," Naruto said as Sakura burst into the kitchen, her eyes a positively deadly shade of acid green. And Sasuke was sitting at the table calmly eating his eggs like he didn't have a woman glaring murderously into the back of his head. Sakura's rage was quickly pacified when Hinata skirted around Naruto and threw her arms around her old friend.

"Sakura!" Hinata exclaimed in her soft, breathy voice and Sakura immediately squeezed her back.

"Hi! I haven't seen you in forever! How are you?" Sakura squealed, positively beaming. She pulled back just a little to see Hinata's gentle face that was practically glowing. A giggle escaped Hinata that no longer matched her womanly figure but still somehow fit the gentle expression.

"I'm great. I'm sorry I wasn't up to see you last night," Hinata quickly apologized and Sakura scowled at her.

"Don't be silly. In fact, you shouldn't be pushing yourself so much. Sit," Sakura sternly ordered as she steered her to a chair at the table and pushed her into a seat. Instead, Sakura snatched a spare apron off the hook on the wall and bustled around the kitchen, stirring the soup and lifting the lid off the pan to flip the chicken breasts that had been sizzling in a large frying pan. Eventually, even Naruto stopped nervously hovering over her and took a seat next to Hinata at the table. As Sakura stood at the counter chopping up herbs to scatter over the food, Ino and Shikamaru ran into the kitchen, still panting from their morning run together. Shikamaru's deathly expression immediately lit up as soon as he saw the food. How the blonde managed to get his lazy butt out of bed every morning was a mystery to all.

"Shower and then food," Sakura sternly ordered, wielding her knife threateningly when one of his hands inched towards the plates of steaming chicken. Ino laughed as she took a suddenly very white Shikamaru by the hand to go clean up.

A few minutes later, they all gathered around the table to dig into Sakura's handiwork. The usual douse of too much salt courtesy of Naruto was absent and the subtle flavor of rosemary laced the chicken, leading everyone to ask for seconds (and Naruto to ask for fourths).

"Where did you learn to make that? I remembered you burned ramen when we were in high school," Ino remarked as everyone leaned back in their chairs and patted themselves on the stomachs. However, Sakura was only halfway through her food, calmly sipping from her glass.

"Whoa. Booze at lunch? What've they been teaching you in France?" Naruto teased and Sakura rolled her eyes at him. She stuck her drink under his nose so he sniffed carefully.

"Grape juice?"

"Yes. Grape juice. But even if it was wine, what's wrong with that? How do you expect me to live in Paris and not grow to love wine? As for the food, I have a friend who owns a little restaurant and he taught me some tricks," Sakura replied before popping a square of chicken into her mouth. As she chewed, Naruto reached into his pocket and extracted a folded sheet of white paper. Clearing his throat, he dramatically opened the page and laid it flat on the table.

"Okay. While you ladies get ready, us **men** will be out on a special mission," Naruto announced. When Hinata leaned in to get a better look at the paper, she immediately burst out giggling. It was a crude drawing (probably made by Naruto himself) of him, Shikamaru and Sasuke playing basketball before going to the sauna.

"Hey! Secret man plans, Hinata. Don't laugh at them!" Naruto insisted and Hinata quietly apologized. He kissed her on the nose before he stuffed the paper back into his pocket and grabbed Shikamaru and Sasuke before hurrying away.

"If he's really out looking for strippers, I'm going to kill them all," Ino flatly said. Hinata gasped and Sakura snorted quietly into her beverage.

"I highly doubt it. Shikamaru would probably fall asleep during a lap dance," Sakura observed and the other two women giggled. After cleaning up the dishes, they loaded their dresses into the back of Hinata's car, each struggling to keep what was in her garment bag a secret. They drove off to a nearby beauty salon where Hinata's long hair was straight and sleek, accented nicely by a glittering diamond headband. Fussy Ino tormented the stylist, reaching up to adjust her own locks until she settled for a sleek chignon decorated by a simple silk orchid. And although her stylist begged and begged to be allowed to cut or dye, Sakura insisted on curly hair pulled back into a loose bun, leaving wisps to fall into her face.

When they all retreated into separate rooms in the back to change into their dresses, Ino suddenly spoke up.

"So, I know Naruto wanted me to keep this a secret, but-"

"Ino! He wanted it to be a surprise!" Hinata chided, interrupting. There was a pause as everyone pulled down zippers and plucked their dresses off of hangers.

"Well, it's clearly not a surprise thanks to Miss Secret over here, Hinata," Sakura pointed out before she poked her head past her curtain to ask one of the assistants to help her with the zipper. A young woman hurried over to oblige and offer a compliment before she quickly disappeared. Sakura twirled once in front of the mirror and nodded approvingly. Pulling the curtain aside, she stepped out to wait for her friends.

"Well… still…. Don't tell her, Ino. Naruto was really looking forward to it," Hinata insisted and Ino sighed noisily. After a few minutes, Ino and Hinata emerged, equally stunning but in different ways. Ever-curvy Ino had gone for a more risqué look with a plunging neckline but the dark blue made her eyes sparkle and her hair shine with an almost impossible brilliance. Hinata had chosen a more modest off-the-shoulder dress with soft lilac fabric. There were tiny crystals sewed into the bodice, making Hinata sparkle every time she moved. Although both women were absolutely stunning, when they caught sight of Sakura, their jaws dropped in identical expressions of shock.

"Holy crap… is that a dress by S-A.I.? It's nearly impossible to get anything made by him!" Ino exclaimed as she grabbed Sakura by the wrist and made her twirl once to show off. Suddenly bursting into tears, Hinata flung her arms around her.

"You're so beautiful!" Hinata squeaked. Sakura laughed as she pried her friend off and plucked a tissue off the nearby table. She made Hinata wipe her face carefully so she wouldn't smudge her make-up.

"What're you crying for, silly? This is your engagement party, not mine," Sakura reminded her and Hinata giggled. After having the stylists touch up Hinata's make-up, the women all piled back into Hinata's car and drove back to her and Naruto's house. As soon as Naruto caught sight of Hinata, his tan face split into a grin. Shikamaru raised an eyebrow at Ino's revealing dress but Sakura had a feeling that he wasn't complaining about the view. The men had already dressed in their suits so after a little talk, Shikamaru and Ino took off in their car while Sakura went with Naruto, Hinata and Sasuke in a separate vehicle.

The drive was unacceptably awkward at best. Clearly Naruto hadn't thought out the seating arrangements too well because seating Sakura next to Sasuke in the back proved a less-than-wise decision. Every once in a while, Hinata made an effort to talk, but the pervasive air of mutual hatred in the back of the car stifled any real conversation. But Sakura didn't really mind too much. She was too busy staring down at her phone, checking every few seconds to see if she had missed a text or a call. But the entire ride went by without anything so she wondered if there had been a flight delay.

Because Hinata's family was… well… the Hyuuga family, the party was held in one of the grand hotels they owned. The building sat atop a cliff that overlooked the clear blue sea. High white columns flanked the ornate double doors and the enormous fountain out front were just testaments to how obscenely wealthy Hinata's family really was.

After checking their coats in the lobby, they entered the hotel's largest ballroom. Some of the guests had already arrived so the happy couple went off to greet them. While social butterfly Ino dragged Shikamaru around, Sasuke skulked off into some corner and Sakura waved over a server and plucked a glass of champagne from his tray. His eyes skimmed appreciatively over her so she responded with a smile. Pretending to sip on her drink, she weaved through groups, smiling and nodding at all the right things.

Her dress drew a fair share of compliments. It had been a gift from a close friend, an exclusive that he had yet to release to the public. The sleeveless bodice was an intricate net of black lace over white fabric that dipped low in the back, revealing the small tattoo at the base of her spine. A red obi went around her middle, the soft fabric trailing down her the back of her skirt in a graceful waterfall. The lower part of the dress hugged her hips in black silk with hundreds of silver flowers stitched down the sides. In fact, the designer himself had attended the party with his usual smile fixed in place. The glass in his hand was almost empty.

"Sai," she said when they caught sight of each other from across the room. His eyes lit up as he crossed the room in long strides and they exchanged quick kisses on the cheeks. He took her hand and spun her around once to take a good look at his handiwork.

"Nice choice of shoes," he commented with a nod of approval. Sakura smiled, lifting her skirt a little to show off her strappy black stilettos.

"I didn't know you knew Hinata and Naruto," Sakura said when she caught Ino staring from across the room. She could see Ino's mouth hanging open with awe and Sakura shrugged apologetically.

"I met Naruto when I was studying abroad in America while I was studying fashion," Sai replied and they exchanged chuckles that only people who knew Naruto could understand. They talked for a little while longer until a hoard of women descended upon Sai, their eyes gleaming with hunger for one of his famous dresses. And though he shot her a pleading look, Sakura was helpless against the estrogen-fueled females whose manicured nails suddenly looked capable of ripping her eyeballs right out. So she waved at him and quietly slipped off before she could be caught in the crossfire.

"Sakura! There you are!" Naruto half-shouted, waving an arm at her from the middle of a crowd.

"I need you to meet someone. Hold on a second!" he said, trying to squeeze his way towards her. But another eager guest caught sight of him and grabbed hold of his arm, dragging him off while talking animatedly about something. However, Sakura barely noticed this because there was a voice in her ear that made a delicious shiver run up her spine.

"I thought you were going to wear the blue dress," Itachi murmured, his hand lightly running down her bare back.

"It's half-transparent. A little too risqué for this setting, don't you think?" Sakura responded, tilting her head over her shoulder to meet his lips. He pressed an extra kiss to her shoulder before he slipped his hand around her waist, his fingers splaying possessively across her stomach.

"For show?" he asked when he noticed the glass in her hand. Shrugging, she lifted it to his mouth and let him take a sip.

"Yes, for show. It would look suspicious if I was at a party like this without a drink in my hand," she replied, laughing when he took the entire drink from her and took another sip. She slipped her arm through his, lightly gripping his bicep. Together, they went off to mingle with the crowd, drawing a few surprised looks. However, one of the best reactions was when Naruto finally managed to tear the persistent chatterboxes off of him and make his way over to Sakura. She was easy to spot with her pink hair.

"So Sakura, there's this guy I need to introduce you to. I think you'll really like him." Naruto said as he walked over to her. Sakura was standing alone by the grand staircase. Grinning widely, the blonde turned around in a circle, trying to find the person he intended to force her to meet. But when he finished turning and looked back to Sakura, there was a man slipping a glass into her hand, his lips brushing against hers.

"Uh…. There you are…. I guess you guys already know each other," Naruto slowly said, his eyes widening. Sakura bit back the urge to laugh at his wide eyes. Beside her, she could almost feel Itachi's own look of amusement.

"Naruto, this is my boyfriend, Itachi," Sakura introduced them, trying her best not to smile too obviously. Naruto nodded in a dazed sort of way. He shook hands with Itachi before he wandered off with the look of someone who was very lost. Sakura and Itachi exchanged wry looks over barely suppressed laughter before they clinked glasses together (although hers was cleverly filled with ginger ale) and went off to talk with more people.

Personally, the best part of the evening was when Sasuke saw that his older brother was at the party. Since Itachi lived in Paris, Sasuke seldom got to see him save for major family events such as funerals or weddings (which, for the Uchiha family, generally held the same atmosphere of dreary duty and coldness). But when he walked over, he caught sight of Sakura on his brother's arm and Sasuke's face turned an odd shade of purple. Marching over briskly, he cut into the middle of conversation and stopped directly in front of Sakura.

"What the hell are you doing drooling all over my brother, Sakura?" Sasuke ground out in a voice low with fury. Sakura took a casual sip of her soda as she looked at him with wide eyes of innocence. Grinding his teeth together, Sasuke took a step closer.

"Don't give me that look. What, you're going after my family's money or something? Is that why you really came to this party?" Sasuke sneered. At this, Sakura set her glass down on the tray of a passing server and crossed her arms over her chest. She gave him an equally frosty glare.

"Watch your tone, Sasuke. Just because there are witnesses here don't mean I won't give you a black eye again," she calmly replied.

"Listen you-" As he spoke, Sasuke grabbed her arm only to be interrupted by his older brother shoving his hand away.

"Manners, Sasuke," Itachi sternly reminded him. Looking absolutely floored, Sasuke immediately turned into a stammering little puppy that looked ready to wet itself.

"But brother, you don't know this girl like I do. She's trouble, brother," Sasuke insisted in a tone that bordered on whining. Sakura rolled her eyes, squeezing her hands together just to make sure she wouldn't punch him in the face.

"Sasuke, I think you owe Sakura an apology. And I hope you'll treat her with respect," Itachi firmly said and Sasuke squirmed a little before he fixed her with another evil glare.

"Sorry," he snarled before he stormed off. A flock of single women settled around him, hanging off his arms and asking him what was wrong. But he simply shot another look at Sakura over his shoulder before he brushed the women off and retreated into his usual corner. Biting her lower lip, Sakura looked up at Itachi.

"I think you hurt his feelings," she commented and Itachi shrugged unapologetically.

The rest of the party passed uneventfully, though Itachi had a habit of guiding her by placing his hand on her lower back. She knew it had less to do with the stares of the passing and more to do with the way she casually refused every drink that was handed to her. She hadn't said anything to him but she knew that he had an idea of what was going on.

Around 2 am, the last of the guests had gone home, leaving the three happy couples (and Sasuke). From her flushed cheeks, it was easy to see that Ino had perhaps had a little too much to drink. Clumsily gathering her skirt in one hand, Ino stomped over, holding onto Shikamaru's arm for support. Pointing her finger brazenly in Itachi's face, she scowled at him.

"Are you tapping that?" Ino demanded, her finger jerking towards Sakura. The couple blinked at her before Sakura let out a startled laugh.

"Excuse me?" Itachi said, his eyes flickering from his snickering girlfriend to the drunken blonde still waving her finger in front of his nose.

"Oh no no no no. You're no good for my Sakura-baby, buddy," Ino announced with a grave nod of her head. Her arm was slung over Shikamaru as she tried to regain balance. Shikamaru simply looked bored as he slipped his arm around Ino's waist to support her. Sakura bit her lower lip, trying to quiet her giggles.

"Sorry about that, man. Ino here really loves champagne," Shikamaru apologized before he dragged his struggling girlfriend off.

"Is… she always like that?" Itachi slowly asked as he watched the couple totter off, occasionally faltering to the side when Ino tried to take control.

"Hmm pretty much," Sakura replied, meeting his confused look with a shrug.

"Oh, there you are, Sakura. We're sorry we didn't get to talk to you at all during the party. But my father's business partners were all so chatty," Hinata said as she crossed the room, her high heels clicking loudly across the stone floor. They exchanged a quick hug, Hinata blushing when Sakura pecked her on the cheek. Although Hinata had had a little to drink, she was nowhere near as unsteady as Ino was. When Hinata noticed Itachi, she quickly reached out to shake his hand.

"Congratulations on your engagement, Miss Hyuuga. We're very sorry we didn't have a chance to say so earlier," Itachi said in his perfect smooth voice that made Hinata flush a bright shade of red. With wide eyes, Hinata turned to Sakura.

"'We'?" Hinata repeated in a small voice.

"Yes, this is my boyfriend, Itachi," Sakura confirmed and they exchanged excited smiles.

"Was Naruto trying to set us up?" Sakura suddenly asked when she remembered her friend's excited promise. With a little sigh, Hinata nodded.

"He was so disappointed. He told me that if he introduced you, you would have to name all your children after him," Hinata replied and Sakura snorted.

"Where is Naruto?" Itachi inquired and they all looked around the room.

"Oh, well, Naruto had a little too much to drink and I sent him to take a nap in the car," Hinata replied with a little shake of her head. Sakura patted her arm sympathetically.

"Are you alright to drive?" Sakura asked, remembering how much of a wreck Hinata had been when they had all started to get their licenses in high school. Only poor, nervous Hinata had waited until college to even begin learning how to drive.

"Sasuke offered to drive so we should be fine. Um… are you going to be staying with us, Mr. Uchiha?" Hinata only asked as her gaze timidly drifted to Itachi again.

"Thank you very much for your hospitality, Miss Hyuuga," he replied with a little dip of his head. So after a few more words, everyone went off to their separate vehicles. Sasuke was still clearly sulking as he hopped into the driver's seat of Naruto's black SUV while Hinata got in back where Naruto was sprawled across the seats, snoring peacefully. Itachi had borrowed his cousin's car, a silver sedan with a spoiler large enough to qualify as a wing on an airplane. When she spotted it, Sakura pressed her lips together, trying to suppress the snide comment working its way up her throat. But Itachi chuckled, like he already knew she wanted to say. She fell asleep almost as soon as they pulled onto the highway. She vaguely heard the car door opening on her side so that cool air rushed in.

"We're here, sweetheart," he murmured as he buttoned the front of her coat and picked up her clutch that she would undoubtedly have forgotten in the car. Sakura blinked blearily as she grasped his outstretched hand and climbed out, trying her best not to trip over her dress. He placed his hand on her shoulder and steered her up the driveway and into the house. She vaguely remembered to say "goodnight" to Naruto and Hinata as she walked up the stairs past them. Ino and Shikamaru's door was already shut and she could hear Shikamaru's snoring. When they entered her room, Itachi didn't bother to flick on the light. He knew it would only hurt her eyes. Besides, the moonlight streaming in through the two large windows was more than enough to see by.

"When did you get here?" Sakura sleepily asked as she watched Itachi close the door. Her fingers carelessly pried her coat open before throwing it on the armchair, barely paying attention to where it landed.

"Around 8? My phone ran out of batteries," Itachi replied, placing his suitcase next to hers and yanking the zipper open.

"Need help?" he offered. After she pulled the pins out of her hair, she shook her head. Twisting around, she yanked down the zipper on her left side, letting out a sigh of relief as she stepped out of her dress. Itachi leaned against the dresser, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Sakura place the garment on a hanger and hook it inside the armoire so it wouldn't wrinkle. She ignored his stare, pulling on the very same red slip that she had tempted him with over the phone.

"Who did you leave Choco with?" Sakura suddenly asked, looking over at him. Itachi pulled his tie off and unbuttoned his shirt.

"With your friend Chouji. I'm worried that we'll come home to a little butterball," he sighed. Sakura laughed as she took his shirt from him and folded it, leaving it next to his bag. She sat on the end of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. He undid the buckle on his belt, sliding his trousers off to reveal his well-defined abs. When he pulled black pajama pants, she raised an eyebrow at him. He raised an eyebrow right back at her.

"But I'm wearing your favorite," she pointed out, teasingly pulling up the hem of her slip to reveal the edge of her lacy underwear.

"But I thought you were sleepy," he replied in a low voice as he crossed the room, thick eyelashes fanning low over his dark eyes. But he swallowed her response as he ducked his head to kiss her. She looped her arms around the back of his neck, tangling her fingers into his hair until she found the tie and pulled it out, letting his dark locks spill free. Refusing to break the kiss, she inched her way up the bed, pulling Itachi along with her. When he broke away to take a breath, she pressed their foreheads together.

"I'm not sleepy anymore," she whispered. Normally, he would have let his weight fall over her, their limbs tangling together in the sheets. But he was hesitant, his hands resting on either side of her, supporting him. His dark eyes flickered down to her flat stomach and back up to her. He had known all along but now he was just asking to make sure, just to be certain that he wasn't being paranoid.

"It's only been 6 weeks," Sakura informed him. Her arms fell away, letting him sit up completely. Eyes wide with wonder, he carefully rested his palm on her stomach, smoothing his hand over the silky fabric. Sakura placed her hand over his and his gaze drifted back up to her.

"Incredible," he whispered as he bent over to press a kiss to her stomach. Then he placed his free hand on her cheek, drawing her close.

"Incredible," he said again as he kissed her on the mouth.

* * *

><p>Sasuke's left eye twitched as he sat down for breakfast. He had stumbled unseeingly out of bed, trudging down the stairs and plopping down in an empty chair in the kitchen. He barely remembered to mumble his thanks when a mug of hot coffee was plopped down in front of him.<p>

"Sugar?"

"Ah, thanks," he flatly said when the sugar bowl was slid across the table towards him. But as he plopped two cubes into his cup, his eye twitched again, this time rather violently. His head turned in creaky, mechanical increments as he looked towards the two people standing at the stove.

To his absolute and utter horror, Sakura was calmly feeding bread slices into the toaster, her still-wavy hair falling into her eyes. Behind her, his older brother was cracking eggs into a frying pan. Hinata's purple apron was secured around his waist. This scene in itself was too much to handle. But Itachi was wearing a t-shirt with black sweatpants while Sakura was clearly wearing a long blue shirt that very obviously didn't belong to her over her shorts. The sleeves were so long that they covered her hands as she tried to cook. Finally, with a huff of frustration, she rolled the sleeves up to her elbows, the fuss making both brothers look at her. As she let out a wide yawn, a smirk appeared on Itachi's face.

"Sleepy?" he asked and she scowled, wrinkling her nose at him. He reached around her to grab a salt shaker and paused to kiss her. Evidently forgiven, he turned back to the eggs while Sakura continued making toast.

All this, Sasuke witnessed with an expression of faint nausea.

"Food!" Naruto groaned as he stumbled his way into the kitchen. He froze, however, when he caught sight of Sasuke's horrified face. Snorting loudly, Naruto fell into the chair beside Sasuke's and jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.

"Jealous, Mr. Forever alone?" Naruto teased with his usual grin.

"I'm surprised neither of you have a hangover," Naruto suddenly commented as he noted the couple's content expressions. Sakura caught two pieces of toast on a plate as they flew out of the toaster. She looped around the counter to place the plate on the table in front of him, ignoring his comment.

"I thought you were talking about how the French love their booze, Sakura," Naruto continued. Still pretending not to hear, Sakura went back to join Itachi, peeking over his shoulder to check on the food. She whispered something and he whispered back and she turned pink, laughing like a silly little girl all over again.

"Hey! Are you ignoring me?" Naruto complained, almost forgetting the food set out in front of him.

"Naruto, I ask that you not yell at Sakura. It's not good for the baby," Itachi calmly said as he flipped the eggs in the pan.

"Yeah, whatever," Naruto grumbled as he picked up a piece of toast and began buttering it generously. Sasuke was completely frozen beside him, his cup half-raised to his lips. It was only after a few moments that Naruto seemed to process the words.

"A BABY? THAT'S GREAT NEWS!" Naruto hollered, jumping to his feet. He ran to fling his arms around Sakura but quickly jumped back, panicking that he had hurt the baby. Laughing loudly, he shook Itachi's hand and then hugged Sakura again.

Amidst all this ruckus, Sasuke silently slumped sideways out of his chair, unconscious. At the dull thud of Sasuke's head hitting the floor, Naruto turned around to look at him.

"….. boy, he didn't take that too well, did he? What a shitty uncle. Hey, Shitty Uncle Sasuke, wake up, man!"

* * *

><p>Thank you to everyone who's given me a theme in their reviews until now. You guys are the best.<p>

But as a little request, I noticed that a lot of people are now giving me really detailed descriptions and plots and details in prompts. While these are all amazing ideas, I feel it's unfair for me to use these since so much work has already gone into them. So I'd like to encourage those of you who've submitted such detailed prompts to use your ideas and make your own masterpiece. And I'd like to ask that the prompts go back to being small phrases or just one word if possible.

Anyway, I've missed all you guys and I promise I'll start writing again soon!


	9. Cute

Feeling like being mean and writing about friends that are just friends because they're both being stupid. And as if it's a tradition, it's 2 am as I write this. There's something seriously wrong with me.

Thank you to everyone who's suggested themes for me.

Enjoy!

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><p><span>Cute<span>

Suggested by Saiyuri Haruno

I open my eyes to an ache that can't be described. Everything hurts as if I've been bludgeoned by a sledgehammer and left to die. I blink once, twice; I want to wipe away the blur in my eyes but my arm is slow to respond and my head hurts too much for me to try too hard. So I lie still for a moment, trying to process all the different degrees of pain until the sharp wave of nausea rears its ugly head and I automatically lean over the edge of the bed. Someone's left a garbage can and I duck my head into it to vomit up the contents of my stomach.

With the taste of acid burning my mouth and throat, I collapse back onto my pillows and feel a sob well up in my throat. A nasty, bitter sob that makes me cringe. The faint light that slips in through the cracks in the blinds makes me wince. Even the soft light from the holiday lights strung above my bed makes my head throb. I curl up on my side, yanking the covers over my feverish body and willing myself to sleep so I can escape the agony even if just for an hour.

It's a cycle.

Sleep a little, wake up to vomit, cry a little and sleep some more.

Sometimes I remember to take a sip out of the water bottle on my night stand. But even the lukewarm water can't wash away the repulsive aftertaste that lingers on my tongue.

But the third awful repetition of this cycle is interrupted by a foot.

A foot in my face.

It takes a minute to register what's going on. But I rise on my elbow and make out a lump curled up at the end of my bed. I twitch my leg, knocking into it and I hear a low grunt. I look back at the foot and make out a pattern on the red sock. While my sluggish brain struggles to put the pieces together, the foot suddenly moves away. The lump on the other side of the bed stirs. With a drawn-out groan, it sits up and it's a testament to my poor health that I don't have the energy to be startled.

"Hey. You awake?" he rasps in a voice thick with sleep. Rubbing at his eye with his palm, he lets out a loud yawn. His dark hair is tied back into a little ponytail at the base of his skull but stubborn bangs fall into his eyes. With a sleepy smile, he pushes his hair back and crawls around my legs to touch my forehead with the back of his hand. His eyes widen as he scoots closer to press his forehead against mine.

"Wow. Good thing I decided to visit," he says and I half-heartedly swat at him. He laughs loudly at me but quickly stops when I let out a hiccup. Scrambling to his feet, he grabs the garbage can and lifts it so I can jam my head into it and heave. At this point, there's nothing left to expel but the meager amounts of water I've managed to keep down until then. Finding nothing to left to eject, my body jerks in painful dry-heaves, seemingly determined to rid itself of internal organs too. Tears spring up in my eyes as I choke for air. He clumsily tries to gather my hair with his free hand to push it away from my face. When I finally surface, gasping and crying all over again, I curl back up on my bed in a pathetic ball.

"You want some water?" he asks in a voice that would have normally made me punch him. It's a soft, doting voice that makes me feel like a helpless kid that desperately wants her mother. But this time, it's exactly what I need to hear. Sniveling like a baby, I shake my head.

His sigh is deeper than I remember.

I listen to him rummage around my dresser before he sits on the edge of the bed and slips his arm under my shoulders. Pulling me up a little, he lifts a bottle of water to my parched lips. I gulp down a few mouthfuls before I clamp my mouth shut again and he knows to give up. Another one of his sighs fills the quiet room, one that's tinged with frustration. He mutters something as he gingerly sets my head down and moves away. I recognize the sound of a backpack zipper from nearby. His weight settles on the bed again and I feel the dip in the cheap mattress. Plastic crinkles before he pushes my bangs aside and presses a cool patch to my forehead.

"Try to get some sleep," I hear him say. He leans over me for a moment to pull up the thin sheet that's been tangled up at the foot my bed. Pulling it over me, he pats my head. Tears of relief well up in my eyes and he pretends not to notice. Instead, he leans against the headboard and lets me rest my head in his lap. The familiar scent of his body wash and aftershave is woven into the fabric of his clothes.

I wake up again to vomit.

Only this time, he's there to hold back my hair and to wipe my tears when I begin to cry again. Each time, he makes me drink some more water before stroking my tangled hair until I fall asleep. I vaguely remember hearing a knock on the door, only because it makes him get up to answer. There's the creak of the door swinging open and a loud voice, clumsy and ignorant to the fact that my head is ready to explode from the slightest noise. But there's his voice now, hushed and easy, probably coaxing my visitor to shut the hell up and go away. They exchange a few more words before the door quietly shuts and he takes his place as my pillow again.

"Who?" I manage to mumble.

"Some girl," he vaguely replies, "Wanted to borrow your book. I told her I'm holding you prisoner as a sex slave."

I almost have the energy to laugh as I fall asleep.

By the time my eyes are able to bear to look at a clock, I realize that it's 4 pm. The day begins to darken just a little, just enough for what little sunlight that streams in not to burn my corneas. When I surface from the thick, vague fever-sleep, he's curled up at the foot of my bed again.

"Aren't you cold?" I ask, poking his arm with my big toe.

"No. Go back to sleep," he grunts, forcing my foot down.

"Lemme go. I need to go to the bathroom," I order and his arms fall away. He pretends to be sleeping again but I catch one of his eyes peering up at me, making sure I'm okay. I can tell that I'm still feverish from the way everything swims around and feels about 50 degrees too cold. But I yank a sweater off the hanger and stuff my arms into it before I shuffle out of the room. For once, I'm grateful for the dim fluorescent lights in my dormitory. It's almost dark enough that I don't feel like my head will explode. Groggy and stumbling, I somehow manage to relieve myself and wash my hands before half-falling my way back to my room. He's sitting at my desk looking at something on his laptop.

"Hey, is there a Chinese place nearby?" he asks me, not looking up when I flop face-first onto my bed. I turn my head to the side.

"Noodle Deluxe," I tell him as I curl up into the sheets, pulling them over me in a warm cocoon. His fingers tap quickly against keys and he's quiet for a while. When I've just begun to drift into sleep again, he stands, chair scraping against the floor. He shoves his feet into his shoes and then snorts loudly. I'm irritated when he pries the warm covers off me, letting cold air rush in. But he ignores me, yanking the sheets down to my stomach. He slaps a fresh cold patch on my forehead and I muster the energy to glare at him with one eye.

"Don't do that. You'll make your fever go up," he scolds and I stick my tongue out.

"I'll be back in a bit," he says, lightly poking my cheek.

The door closes softly, lock turning with a comforting click. He's probably taken my keys and my ID to swipe in to the building later. He's always been like that, never asking to borrow my things. But it would bother me if he did.

I like that he never needs to ask.

I wake to the beep of my microwave. Disoriented and a little less nauseated, I lift my head off the pillow. He stands, arms crossed over his chest as he waits for the food to finish heating. When he notices me awake, his stern expression softens.

"Hungry?" he asks. I need a minute to figure out how I feel, to process everything beyond the general ache and urge to vomit that have become familiar. Slowly, I nod. When I sniff, a surprisingly appetizing smell enters my nostrils.

"Egg drop soup," he tells me.

He watches me eat with one hand resting on the garbage can. Whenever I pause to let the food settle, his hand twitches; he's ready to grab that stupid plastic container in case my stomach decides to violently reject everything. But after I've managed to keep down everything, he digs into his own food. After I've gone to the bathroom again, he tucks me in bed, propping me up against the headboard. He places his laptop at my feet before he climbs in next to me. It's a tight squeeze in my twin bed but neither of us really cares. When he hits the play button, I immediately recognize the theme song of my favorite drama.

"You hate this show," I point out but he shrugs.

"You like it," he simply says.

My head droops halfway through the first episode. He presses his hand against my head, making me rest it against his shoulder. Eyelids drooping, mouth opening in a yawn, I glance up at him. He has the strangest look on his face, almost like he wants to say something. But when he catches me looking, he smiles like always.

"Sleepy?" he asks. When my eyes slide shut, I feel the vibrations of his chuckle. With his free arm, he reaches over me to pick up my favorite stuffed rabbit that has fallen to the side. He tucks it in between my arms and my chest and I hug it close.

"Okay. Good night, pukey," he says.

Maybe it's the fever, but I could swear that he kisses my forehead.

But that would be ridiculous.

* * *

><p>"<em>You know, you're really my best friend," she suddenly says as she reaches over to steal one of my fries. I snort into my mouthful of cheeseburger.<em>

"_Are you saying that so I don't stop you from stealing all my fries?" I ask and she laughs. I watch her ritual: dipping fry in ketchup, biting off that end, flipping it and dunking that end in honey mustard. Grabbing another handful of fries, she carefully eats them, following the same pattern, half ketchup and half honey mustard. _

"_That's part of it…. But seriously, you're my best friend," she says in a much quieter voice. I swallow my food and reach out to take a sip of my soda._

"_I know," I reply. I look up and she's smiling. _

_We both know I really meant to say, "You're my best friend too."_

* * *

><p>The night before I catch my plane, I call her, just to make sure she's free for the weekend. She picks up the phone after two rings like always.<p>

"Hello?"

She hasn't bothered to check caller ID before picking up. It's a greeting for anyone, for no one maybe. But when I simply say one word ("Hey"), she lets out her loud, bubbly laugh. She tells me that she just came back from the gym with her friend.

"My calves are going to be **SO** sore tomorrow!" she groans and I can hear music in the background. So I ask her about her day, about her week, about all the things I've missed in her life. She tells me that she has a strange crick in her neck that won't go away. She tells me that she had way too many cookies for dinner today, moaning and carrying on about how big her butt has gotten since school has started. It's like she's sitting next to me, cheerfully babbling about her life. When she's done talking, she's quiet for a minute.

"Is everything okay?" I ask her. It takes her a second too long to answer.

"Huh? Oh. No, I'm fine," she assures me.

She's definitely not fine.

"Any plans for the weekend?" I inquire and she snorts.

"Homework and sleep. That's it," she says.

We talk a little longer but I can tell she's not paying very close attention. After a while, I hear someone call her name and she complains to me about how nobody knocks anymore and I pretend not to feel sympathetic because that's the way we are.

"Hey, we're going to get bubble tea. Are you coming?" a guy's voice asks.

"Hmmm no thanks. I think I'll go to bed soon," she tells him.

Absolutely not fine. There's no reason she would ever willingly pass up a chance to have bubble tea. So I tell her to go to bed and promise to call her tomorrow.

"Good night, shrimp," I say and she laughs softly.

"Good night, asshole," she replies.

The airport is surprisingly empty when I catch my flight. Getting through security isn't too difficult and I had the foresight to splurge on a seat in first class. I'm not sure that I could make it in economy, listening to babies scream for five hours. I've never liked kids anyway. That was always her thing, kissing babies and hugging dogs and the like. Not me. I recline my seat back and take a long nap until the plane touches down on the ground.

I take a taxi from the airport to my cousin's house. Everyone's still sleeping peacefully so I let myself in with the key hidden in the mouth of the large stone frog on the front porch. There are already blankets and a pillow set up on the sofa along with an extra toothbrush in case I've forgotten mine.

But I think back to her voice, the slight catch in the back of her throat. So despite the fact that I'm ready to pass out on the comfortable sofa right then and there, I grab my cousin's car keys. After all, it's the weekend and I heard that he was grounded for sneaking out to a party last week. He won't be going anywhere. So after a quick stop at the local 24-hour pharmacy, I head south.

I speed when I drive.

It's not a rebellion thing. Maybe it's something I've picked up from living in LA. Everyone there acts like we're supposed to be playing bumper cars instead of actually driving. So I get there in half an hour, parking my cousin's car in the back parking lot. As I make my way to the front door of the dormitory, I see a group of kids stumbling in a large pack. When I see that one of the girls has no shoes I know that they're probably some residents coming back from a long night of partying. I slip inside the building after them, glad I didn't have to wait around in the cold until someone happened to leave the building for me to get inside. It's barely 5 am. I'd be waiting for hours until any of these lazy college students even thought about crawling out of bed. I climb the stairs two at a time, trying to remember what her room number is. It turns out that I don't need to know. Her door's the one covered in silly drawings and cut-outs of the most ridiculous things from magazines.

I want to knock. She's so paranoid about being robbed. She always has the door locked. But I try the doorknob just in case. When it opens easily, I know that she's definitely not fine. The colorful glow from the holiday lights she's strung over the bed makes it easier for me to see. It still takes me a few seconds to make out the shapes in the dark. There's a plastic garbage can placed right next to her bed. Half-empty bottles of water clutter her dresser. And she's burrowed completely under the covers, nothing more than a motionless lump. As I slip my backpack off, she groans faintly in her sleep, one of her feet poking out from under the blue blanket. I wonder if I should wake her, make her take some of the medicine I bought. But for such a light sleeper, she's resting so peacefully and I almost feel bad interrupting that.

So, tossing my jacket over the back of her chair and pulling off my sneakers, I carefully peel back the covers just enough to see what part of the mass on the bed is her and what part is her small mountain of stuffed animals. I quietly nudge the animals to the side before I slide one leg underneath the warm blanket. She's curled up on the right side of the twin bed. It's a squeeze but I fit on the other half, my head by her feet. Though her mattress is uncomfortable just like she's told me, I manage to fall asleep.

She kicks me.

Well not really, but she hits me with her leg to wake me up. When I sit up, she's staring numbly at me, her hair tangled in an unmanageable bird's nest around her head.

"Hey. You awake?" I mumble in the middle of my yawn. It occurs to me then that her leg pressed against mine feels too hot. When I lean over to check her forehead for a fever, I can make out her dark circles. Her skin is burning. Wondering if my hand is just too hot, I press my forehead against hers and her skin is still flaming.

"Wow. Good thing I decided to visit," I sigh. She pretends to try to hit me. It's a weak flop of her arm, nowhere near what she's capable of. Once she gave me a bruise the size of an orange when I asked about her bra size. I start to laugh at her, remembering just how funny she's always been. That sound dies when her expression suddenly turns odd. One of her arms flails out to pull the garbage can closer. She half-flings herself into the garbage as she vomits miserably. It's an awful choking sound mixed with a sob. She's always hated the feeling of throwing up. I get out the bed, trying to keep her hair away from her mouth. She's always hated getting her hair dirty, hated throwing up- she pretty much hates everything about what she's doing now. As she finally manages to stop, I let go of her hair.

She tries so hard not to start bawling right there. Shaking and sweating, she pulls herself back onto the bed and squeezes herself into the smallest space possible.

"You want some water?" I offer, moving to grab one of the bottles off her dresser. She shakes her head. I want to hit her just a little. Right now, water's exactly what her body needs. But I glance back at the thin layer of vomit coating the garbage can and I can understand why she wouldn't want to swallow anything. She turns her head to the side, panting probably from the fever and the exhaustion combined. Seeing her pale face, I ignore what she wants and take that stupid bottle of water anyway. When I sit on the bed, I can see her bloodshot eyes drift towards me. I put my arm around her and force her to sit up. Her back is a little damp from sweat. She doesn't even have the energy to look annoyed when I make her drink a few meager sips before a look of nausea crosses her face and I let her stop.

"She's burning up," I say mostly to myself as I lay her back down. I know that there's probably no ice in the mini-fridge by her bed. Hoping for the best, I dig into my backpack, pushing aside the medicine and clothes I've packed. I manage to dig up a cold patch I bought from last summer when I went on vacation in Japan. Frantically ripping through the layers of packaging, I peel back the plastic covering the adhesive. When I push her messy bangs off her forehead, she grumbles a little. But the moment the coolness makes contact with her feverish skin, her expression evens out.

"Try to get some sleep," I tell her. I yank the sheets out from the tangled mess in the lump at the end of her bed. As I pull them over her, I see a few tears leak out of her eyes. She was probably so lonely, in so much pain all by herself. This is the first time she's been sick away from home. And even though she hates me seeing her cry, I smooth my hand over her forehead.

I remember being ill my first time without my mom around. The feeling of absolute misery and helplessness is only made worse if you're busy throwing up your guts. And I know she's too stubborn to call anyone for help, not even her own parents who live less than an hour's drive away. I nudge her to the side a little to sit in bed right next to her. A little hiccup escapes her mouth when I pull her head up to rest across my lap. I can feel her tears soak through my jeans.

I let out a groan of frustration when she flails awake an hour later. The wet sound of her puking almost lets me feel her misery. Each time she does throw up, there's less and less for her body to reject. Her shoulders shake miserably and her tears drip into the garbage can too. Each time I can't do anything but wipe her mouth and make her drink more water. Her voice is dry and scratchy when she cries herself back to sleep.

Around noon, there's a quiet knock on the door. I try to ignore it but there's another set of knocks, louder this time. Cursing angrily under my breath, I try to slide out from underneath her. She mutters unintelligibly, woken by the movement. But she seems too tired to fully wake because she quickly closes her eyes again. I scramble to the door, nearly tripping over my bag in the dark room. When I tried to turn on the light the last time she woke, she slapped her hand over her face like I had just stabbed her in the eyes. So light was temporarily banned, curtains drawn tightly against the sunlight outside.

"Yeah?" I hiss as I open the door enough to stick my head out. There's a mousy girl standing outside, her eyes wide with surprise. When she sees me, she begins nervously tapping her fingers together, fumbling for words. Her hesitation irritates me. The more of my time she wastes, the greater chance of her waking up the sick girl lying in the bed.

"Is Sakura here? She promised me I could borrow her copy of a book," the girl says, obviously dense from the way her voice is clearly above a whisper. Any thinking human being would match my low voice, sensing there was something wrong. I resist the urge to say a few choice words to her as I take a deep breath.

"Sakura's sleeping right now. She's pretty sick," I grind out. At this, the girl finally seems to understand.

"Oh! Is she alright?" she asks.

I stare at her. I just stated that Sakura is sick and this girl asks me if Sakura's alright?

"Yes. Now if you'll excuse me," I flatly say before I close the door on her shocked face. When I slide back into bed, her eyes are half-open. I touch her cheek as she rests her head comfortably on my lap again.

"Who?" she manages to say. Her fever's gone down a little but it's still there.

"Some girl wanted to borrow your book," I tell her, annoyed just by the memory of the rather dense visitor.

"I told her I'm holding you prisoner as a sex slave," I add, hoping to make her smile. And her lips curve up as her eyes drift shut again. I watch her face for a long time. Her lips move a little as she breathes. When my stomach growls loudly, I'm frozen, praying that it won't wake her. But she slumbers on, oblivious to the gurgles of my abdomen. I move slowly, an inch at a time so I won't disturb her as I slip out from underneath her. Instead, I stand and try to silently leave the room, in search of a bathroom and maybe a vending machine. One pee break and a granola bar later, I enter her room to find her still sleeping. She's moved around in her dreams and found her favorite stuffed rabbit, hugging it tightly to her chest. I'm still jetlagged so I curl up at the foot of the bed and take a nap too.

It's a few hours before she stirs again. I can feel her moving her legs, stretching them.

"Aren't you cold?" she inquires as she touches my arm with her very cold foot. Her hands and feet have always been cold. She tells me that it's from bad circulation. And though it's nice in the summer, in the middle of the winter, it's a horrible curse for anyone she touches.

"No. Go back to sleep," I tell her. I blindly grab at her foot, pinning it down under my arm. She's right though. I'm a little cold but I'm also too lazy to move.

"Lemme go. I need to go to the bathroom," she whines, wriggling her leg. When I let her go, it takes her a while to stand. She grumbles under her breath about being freezing as she stumbles over to her closet. When she goes to open the door, I take a quick peek at her. She's put on her favorite sweater, a dark blue one with shiny gold buttons. It looks so wrong with her grey sweatpants and baggy shirt. Snorting, I turn over to sleep some more. But my stomach snarls furiously, shaking away any sleepiness I might possess.

"Jackass," I spit as I sit up. Jabbing my finger into my abdomen, I roll out of bed to pull my laptop from my backpack. I drum my fingers against her desk as I wait for it to start up. When I pull her desk chair back, I can see a bag of chocolate hidden under her desk, probably to keep them safe from her roommate. When I manage to pull up my internet browser, she comes back to the room, cringing from the hallway lights.

"Hey. Is there a Chinese place nearby?" I wonder out loud. I remember her recounting the horrors of dining hall food and I'm not willing to subject both her and myself to more vomiting. She falls boneless onto the bed. I patiently wait for her to turn her head to speak.

"Noodle Deluxe," she grunts before she burrows underneath the covers. I type the name into the search bar, looking for an address. I manage to pull up a menu and I spend a few minutes reading. I need something mild, a soup that she can eat without irritating her fragile stomach. After memorizing the directions, I shut my laptop and plug it in to charge. It takes a minute but I find my shoes in the dark and yank them on. Turning around, I find her enveloped in her fortress again, an unidentifiable being hiding in a mound of blankets and bunnies and pillows. She even has the energy to complain when I pull back the covers. Her cheeks are already flushed, her fever flaring again.

"Idiot," I mutter as I peel off the patch on her forehead. When I place a fresh one there, she lets out a sigh of relief. But her arms move to pull the sheets up again. I firmly pull them down and she opens an eye to stare angrily at me.

"Don't do that. You'll make your fever go up," I remind her. She's clearly feeling better because she sticks her tongue out at me. That makes me feel a little better.

"I'll be back in a bit," I promise her and she nods a little. I poke her cheek and she wrinkles her nose. I look around the room once to find my wallet. Recalling the swipe system at the door, I dig up her room keys along with her ID card to stick in my pocket. The drive to the Chinese restaurant takes about 5 minutes and I stand waiting around 10 minutes before my order is ready. The owner of the restaurant eyes me with disbelief as he hands over the bag and receipt, like he can't believe I'm capable of eating sesame chicken, beef and broccoli, dumplings, two egg rolls and soup all by myself. He's partly right. The soup isn't for me. I could still eat that too though. I'm starving. I drive back to the dorm, quickly swiping in and running up to the second floor.

But I'm worried for nothing. I've been gone half an hour and she's still resting well. She's even listening to me and not pulled the covers up again. I busy myself working on an essay for class at her desk while I let her snooze a little longer. I consider eating without her but that feels unfair. Around 6, my stomach declares war and I finally give in. As I go to retrieve the food, I jostle her foot a little. She sighs, rolling over in bed.

When I stick the plastic container of food in the microwave and start it, she makes a soft noise. Face utterly dazed, she's resting her weight on her left elbow as she tries to sit up. I can't really tell because it's still dark in the room, but her face looks a little better.

"Hungry?" I inquire. I can see her mind working as she assesses her condition. Her tongue darts out to wet her chapped lips as she thinks. After a long time, she nods. Her nostrils flare as she suddenly notices the smell of food hovering in the air.

"Egg drop soup," I explain before she can ask me. And the way her eyes light up is strangely reassuring. I'm probably incredibly irritating as I watch her eat. I'm so worried that her stomach isn't ready for food at all. But after a few sips, she cringes but doesn't seem in danger of vomiting again. It's only after I make her finish half the soup that I dig into my Styrofoam containers. The angry god of hunger that abides in my stomach is finally appeased.

"I have to pee again," she mutters as she gets to her feet. This time her movements are a little less jerky and unsure as she moves. Instead of putting on a sweater again, she simply pulls on my jacket, the long sleeves covering her hands. She returns a few minutes later, smelling like soap. She folds my jacket into a neat square before leaving it on top of her desk.

"How do you feel?" I ask. She shrugs a little as she perches on the edge of the bed. She combs her fingers through her hair, finally energetic enough to realize just how messy it is. A look of utter horror crosses her face as she tries to tame the monster. But after a few attempts, she gives up, huffing angrily. I watch her for a moment while she's not paying attention. I haven't seen her in a few months, not since the end of the summer. She's gained a little weight since then, her face a tiny bit rounder. I know she'll probably ask me about it later and I know I'll lie to her, trying to convince her that she's gotten skinnier. I think she's perfect the way she is but she always worries. She finally catches me staring at her and she lifts an eyebrow at me.

"Scoot back," I simply tell her. She's still too tired to snap back at me. Instead, she listens with a wary expression, moving to lean back against the headboard. She's still cold, pulling the covers up to cover her lap. While she settles, I move my laptop to the foot of the bed, tilting the screen forward a little so she can see properly. As she waits, I pull up a playlist I made while she was in the bathroom. When I look at her, she pats the bed expectantly with a faint smile. I squeeze in next to her and hit the space bar with my foot to start the video. The piano riff at the beginning makes her laugh a little. Of course she recognizes this theme song. At one point, it was her ringtone.

"You hate this show," she reminds me, like I could forget how much I despise the cheesy romance.

"You like it," I remind her in turn. She smiles so easily at me, like we haven't been apart at all. Although she's immediately engrossed in the show, her eyes sparkling with excitement when the male lead makes an appearance, I'm a little miserable, made a little less miserable by the fact that she seems to be enjoying herself. She even laughs out loud a few times. Around half an hour in, her head begins leaning a little to the side. I glance over at her and find her eyelids slowly falling, eyes growing unfocused.

She's cute.

And I want to tell her that I miss seeing her like this, that I miss spending useless time with her like this. I miss being able to watch her expressions when she does anything. I miss the sound of her exuberant laugh that doesn't match with her rather delicate appearance at all. Miss the way she bites her lower lip when she's really focused on something.

When she lets out a loud yawn, I let her lean her head on my shoulder. Her curious eyes turn towards me. She's popped a blood vessel in her right eye from vomiting so hard. Even with an eye bright red with blood, she looks unbelievably cute to me. But she knows me too well. I can tell that she sees something in my face, something that gives me away. I can see one of her eyebrows tilt as she tries to figure out exactly what she's seeing.

So smart but so clueless.

"Sleepy?" I ask a little sarcastically, hoping to distract her. It works. In response, she closes her eyes, letting out a yawn accompanied by an adorable noise. I glance around the bed, searching for the black bunny doll she treasures so much. When I drop the stuffed animal in her arms, she hugs it close, another smile curving her lips.

"Okay. Good night, pukey," I say.

She's already sleeping, too tired to response to my teasing. The smile lingers on her face as her breathing evens out and deepens. As she takes a deep breath, I lean over to brush my lips against her smooth forehead.

"I love you, Sakura," I whisper, knowing that she'll never hear. But almost as if she does hear, as if she understands what I say, she releases the bunny and shifts to rest her head against my chest. She lets out a deep sigh of contentment, so comfortable, so relaxed.

Way too cute.

* * *

><p>"<em>You're totally in love with Itachi," Ino tells me suddenly. I scowl at her as I pinch her arm.<em>

"_Shut up! He'll hear you!" I hiss back, quickly peeking over my shoulder. Itachi's fallen asleep on the couch a few yards away. His brother and his friends are sitting on the floor right by him, engrossed in their video games. I turn back to Ino and she's grinning evilly at me._

"_And I'm not! We're just friends," I snap. _

"_Oh please, Sakura. It's so obvious that he's in love with you too," Ino huffs, rolling her eyes. I want to strangle her just a little._

"_Go away, Ino," I groan. She shrugs innocently as she scoots over to watch the guys play their video games. I follow her too but instead of watching the TV like everyone else, I tilt my head to watch Itachi sleep. His dark hair is falling into his face. When I carefully move his bangs aside, he lets out a deep sigh, the familiar furrow in his forehead appearing. I press my pointer finger against the wrinkle until it disappears, leaving his expression peaceful._

"_Stop being cute, you asshole," I mutter under my breath as I turn away from him. _

_I flinch when I hear him snort in response._

* * *

><p>Suggest more prompts in reviews please. Oh and review in general even if you don't have an idea. I love getting feedback from you guys.<p> 


	10. Reflections

Spring Break is here so I'm going to try to get a lot of writing done at once. I'm not really happy with this particular one shot but I've decided to just post it and move on instead of agonizing any longer.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>Reflections<span>

Suggested by Pandastacia

It was a whisper that drew them together.

Perhaps it was a voice, a name, a sound that echoed until there was nothing left to hear. Still, bare feet parted the soft, damp grass, searching not with ears but with skin that sighed against the wet earth.

It was one step, an abrupt drop. Stomachs lurched in sync as the ground gave way under small feet. Blistering silence rushed past ears, as sharp as a scream. Mouths gasping, hands clawing, they plummeted. With each labored breath, each feared that she would take in water, but with each beautiful suck of pure, clean air, hearts pounded and twisted into shapes that couldn't be described. Bright eyes met in the abyss, fingertips twisting together. One of them spoke, but the sound shattered against the cold silence.

Identical faces, paired with hands that did not match, stared until a sharp gust of wind tugged them apart. The darkness swallowed them both, each floating onwards on the waves of a torpid, fleeting dream.

* * *

><p>It was fear that woke her, wrenching through her tangled web of dreams.<p>

A voice that she almost recognized whispered something. Straining to hear, she tilted her head closer. At the same time, the nagging terror clawed at her again, screaming and whispering, warning her of something that she couldn't quite understand. Though her body was unimaginably comfortable, she struggled against her heavy eyelids.

It was strange. Years of training and battles had taught her to trust her instincts more than anything. More than once she had bolted awake at the sound of her neighbors upstairs walking across the floorboards. The tiniest creaks and shifts in the wind all wretched her cruelly from sleep. But more often than not, it was the smallest noises that ended up saving her. Yet this time, even though her instincts wailed and wailed, her body was sluggish to respond. As she managed to clear away some of the fog of sleep, she felt a heavy arm pinning her down. The unmistakable scent of a shinobi was heavy in the air, always a mixture of the oil used to polish weapons and pine from the forests that cradled the village. Her shoulders tensed as she realized that she could feel the heat from his arm against her bare back.

She lifted herself up on her elbows, feeling cool air brush across her bare chest. The arm slipped off, fingers caressing her spine in a familiar, easy motion.

"What's wrong?"

The voice stuck to a single memory, one so old that she had nearly forgotten it. A man in black, hair darker and eyes burning stood in front of her. A name more sour and repulsive than spoiled milk surfaced, one splattered with the blood of his family.

She scrambled into a sitting position, hands slipping under her pillow to reach for the kunai always wedged between the mattress and the headboard. But there was no headboard; there was no reassuring coolness of metal. She patted herself in the darkness, trying to assess the situation. Her palms met bare flesh, her body embarrassingly bare. And for the first time in a while, she felt the urge to burst into tears.

Her silence stretched out too long and a light flicked on, a soft orange glow.

"Sakura? Did you have another nightmare?"

Uchiha Itachi sat beside her, his dark hair falling around his face and spilling onto his shoulders. She took one look at his naked body, lean and muscled from years of vigorous training, and she crossed her arms over her bare breasts. They stared at each other, the corner of her lip twitching as she quelled the insane urge to punch him right in the mouth. As she cracked her knuckles, she felt something on her finger and looked down to find a glittering diamond ring.

"Oh hell no."

* * *

><p>It was a nudge that woke her.<p>

A finger jabbed into her shoulder and she squirmed away, burrowing her head further into the crook of her elbow. When the insistent finger poked again, she sighed, slowly rubbing her eyes. Cracking one eye open, she peered up into the scattered sunlight. The sigh of tree branches swaying in the wind greeted her. A yawn escaped her mouth as she sat up. When she was able to focus properly, she saw that Uchiha Itachi was sitting on a large rock protruding from the ground. He stared blankly at her.

"Why the silly cloak?" she yawned, rubbing at her shoulder from where she had slept funny. He blinked at her. But she wasn't bothered by his silence.

"Ah, top secret mission, right? That's alright then," she said mostly to herself. Looking around, she noticed that she had been lying on a surprisingly comfortable plot of moss and leaves. The chatter of birds filled the damp air. Although the dark greenery looked like she was still in Konoha, she couldn't quite tell. Still, she wasn't at all worried. The warm wind carried the fragrance of pine needles and blooming flowers. As she lifted her arm to stretch, she felt the tickle of wind on her bare arm.

How strange. She remembered going to bed in her favorite pajamas. But now she was wearing an embarrassingly revealing red bandeau underneath a black mesh shirt. On top was one of the green flak vests that she had seen shinobi wearing around the village. She touched the fabric of her black pants and it was just like the ones she had often washed blood out of.

"Hmm I guess I'm still dreaming," she murmured. She looked back at Itachi who was still eyeing her with the same look of bland disinterest. Smiling, she threw her arms around his neck, nuzzling her nose against the side of his neck.

"What a nice dream if my husband's here with me…. Even if he's wearing a silly-looking cloak," Sakura giggled softly as her eyes slid shut.

* * *

><p>"So… explain something to me," Sakura said, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. She had managed to dig something out of the closet that wasn't silk or pink. Garbed in a long red tunic and black leggings, she sat at the kitchen table. Itachi poured two glasses of water and set one in front of her before he sat in the chair across from hers. Sakura yanked the ring off her fourth finger and pinched it between two fingers, holding it between them.<p>

"We're married?" she asked. Her narrowed eyes darted sharply to him and then back to the sparkling ring. The diamond was so large and perfectly clear that she almost believed it was too beautiful to be real.

"Yes. We've been married for two years now, Sakura," Itachi patiently explained, even as a wrinkle appeared in his forehead. When he reached across the table, her eyes widened. Her free hand automatically reached for her weapons pouch. But her fingers grasped at air, clawing and clawing until she remembered that she was pitifully unarmed. Glaring at nothing in particular, she drummed her idle hand against the tabletop, turning over options in her head.

In this situation, it was probable that she was trapped in some sort of genjutsu. She had spent enough time studying the brain to know that in situations like this, there would always be someone in these illusions to speak the truth. It would very likely be a person cruel enough to cut her with reality, someone unafraid to voice his blunt opinions.

"I need to speak to your brother," Sakura said, looking up.

Though he looked confused, Itachi obliged. Even though he offered her breakfast, she refused, glaring suspiciously at him out of the corners of her eyes. Her steely gaze was fixed firmly on him as he ate his simple breakfast of rice and miso soup along with leftovers from the refrigerator that looked suspiciously similar to the ones her mother had cooked for her as a child. After he did the dishes, Itachi led her out of the house, his hand almost reaching out to rest on her lower back, like it was a reflex. But her glare was enough to keep him an arms-length away.

It was strangely quiet in Konoha, even though it was way past the time that the market officially opened. There was some chatter, but it was muted, as if it were far away. It took a while to figure out where she was exactly. Without the years of grime and overgrown weeds, the Uchiha district was nearly unrecognizable. Life was bursting from every house. The laughter of children filled the air, mingling with adult voices exchanging pleasantries.

She gritted her teeth. It was intolerably cruel, filling up a graveyard with ghosts and trying to convince her that it was real. Stewing deep in her thoughts, she almost failed to notice when Itachi stopped at a random house on the street.

"Wait here," he ordered before he slipped inside. Sakura kept her eyes fixated on her sandals as she waited. She rocked back and forth on her heels, firmly ignoring the strange looks she felt from people who passed on the street. After a minute, the door slid open and Itachi emerged with Sasuke at his heels.

"Don't tell me you need me to mediate one of your stupid couple fights again," Sasuke chuckled as he walked up to her. Eyes widening, Sakura jerked her head up to look at him. This was indeed Sasuke with his spiky hair and dark eyes. He was even wearing the same dark pants and navy shirt he always chose to wear on his days off. She chanced a quick look in Itachi's direction before she grabbed Sasuke's arm. Her body flicker technique was fast and almost effortless after years of practice. They reappeared in Team Seven's old training grounds less than a second later, smoke scattering in their wake.

"Wow. When did you get so good at that? And what happened to all your hair?" Sasuke demanded. Goosebumps rose on her arms. Sasuke without some sort of surly note in his voice was barely Sasuke at all. She desperately wanted to escape this strange upside-down world of the genjutsu. Releasing his arm, she began pacing a wide circle around him. Absently, she reached up to touch her hair but found it as short as always.

"Okay. I remember coming back from a short mission in Suna," she began. Sasuke stood watching her with a vaguely confused expression.

"What are you talking about?" he inquired, sounding less annoyed than concerned.

"Backtracking. If I can remember what I was doing before I got caught in this stupid genjutsu, maybe I can figure out how to break free from it," she hastily explained, still walking in her dizzying circle. Sakura suddenly stopped in front of Sasuke, poking her finger into his arm.

"I was dealing with a sudden outbreak of poisonings. Gaara wanted me to send a team with me on the way home for my protection but I refused," she mused, looking at Sasuke but not really seeing him.

"So I travelled a day and stopped in a village to rest. What was it called?" Sakura groaned as she tried to sort through the hazy memories. She strained to remember the faded characters on a rough wooden sign staked into the ground. But the letters blurred together so strongly that it was impossible to make out anything.

"Whatever!" she huffed, throwing her hands in the air. She resumed circling with Sasuke standing in the middle like a confused totem pole.

"I remember taking a dip in the hot springs. And then I went back to my room at the inn and went to sleep," Sakura concluded. When she finally looked up at Sasuke, one of his eyebrows was raised high.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"You're supposed to be the marker, the sign that this isn't real. Logically, since you were always the blunt one, my unconscious would project you into a genjutsu with the same function. So, tell me where the hell I am and how the hell I wake up!" Sakura half-shouted with frustration. When Sasuke simply gaped at her, she let out a loud groan and stomped hard enough that the ground cracked beneath her heel.

"Whoa. Calm down," Sasuke said, raising his hands in a passive gesture. When her head whipped around to look at him, she was suddenly struck with a memory. Huddled together in the dark forest, pinned by utter terror, she had clung to his arm. As the menacing snake-like man had approached, Sasuke had plunged his kunai into his thigh to break the trance. More than once, she had turned to the same method to break out of particularly powerful genjutsus. As time had gone on and she had grown more and more proficient in channeling her chakra, self-harm as a last resort had become something she had nearly forgotten.

"Hold on," she muttered mostly to herself. Thinking quickly, she reached under his raised arm to pluck a kunai from his holster. Before he could stop her, she raised the kunai and plunged it into her thigh. As expected, pain seared through her leg, radiating out in waves that made her see spots of block for a minute. But the harder and harder she tried to break through whatever fog was clouding her mind, the more and more she was aware that Sasuke was still standing in front of her, his mouth hanging open in horror. Gritting her teeth, she wrenched the weapon out of her flesh and black blood sputtered out in a quick pulse.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sasuke shouted as he grabbed the kunai from her. At that precise moment, a plume of smoke rose to Sasuke's left. Itachi materialized from the smoke, his chakra already jittery with agitation. His eyes flew to Sakura. Both her palms were pressed firmly to her thigh even as sticky rivulets of blood trickled through her fingers.

"Did you stab her?" Itachi demanded as he looked at Sasuke who was holding a bloody weapon. Frantically shaking his head, Sasuke pointed at Sakura.

"You stabbed my wife," Itachi said, looking back at Sakura.

"I didn't!" Sasuke insisted.

"This must be one hell of a genjutsu," Sakura sighed, ignoring the two men eyeing each other with varying degrees of panic. Gathering chakra to her fingers, she swept her digits along the edges of the sharp puncture, letting the soothing touch work its way around before delving deeper into the flesh. She bit her lower lip as she untangled nerves and smoothed them back together before she coaxed skin cells to the surface. Pressing her hands to her leg, she finished with an extra burst of chakra to knit the top layers of skin together.

"So, Sasuke who fails at being my Superego, what now?" she asked as she wiped her bloodied hands on her leggings. When she looked up, the brothers were staring at her. When neither of them seemed capable of responding, she let out a loud, exasperated sigh.

"Why do you suck so much?"

* * *

><p>"Wake up."<p>

It wasn't the hand shaking her arm that roused her this time. Rather, it was the coldness of the voice, the lack of compassion she had never heard before. Eyebrows knitting together, she lifted her head to peer up into the blank face she knew so well. But after a moment, she noticed the dark shadows in the hollows of his cheeks and the shocking crimson of his eyes. She sucked in a startled breath, frightened as always of the sharingan.

"You're… not my husband. Where am I?" she demanded as she sat up. Her head swiveled around as she surveyed her surroundings. This time, she caught sight of the tall tree stumps with targets tacked to them. She clenched her fingers into the bristly grass, breathing in the muggy air.

"Is this… our training ground?" Sakura wondered as she noticed the old straw dummy propped up against one of the stumps. There was a crude eye patch along with a black mask fixed on its face. She looked up at Itachi but his scarlet gaze was fixed firmly on something in the distance. After a moment, his eyes flickered down to her. As he turned to leave, she grabbed onto the edge of his cloak. He probably could have pushed her off, easily escaped. But she almost recognized a glimmer of impatience in his icy stare as he looked back at her.

"I'm scared," she whispered. She thought she saw his lips part in a silent word before he pulled up the collar of his cloak and fastened it, hiding most of his face from her. Before she could say anything else, the black fabric she was holding so tightly dissolved between her fingers. He dissolved into curls of dark smoke just as she heard a vaguely familiar shout.

"Sakura-chan? What are you doing home already?"

Sakura heard the muted rhythm of feet treading through the rough grass. But her stare was fixed on the spot where a man was missing. She wondered if this was all some sick joke, if maybe this was a bad dream. As hard as she pinched her arm, nothing changed. When Naruto came to squat next to her, she was startled by the sharp angles of his face, chiseled jaw and straight nose. There was a certain hollowness there that she couldn't quite place. His eyes were still the same though, bright blue like the clear skies on a summer morning; that offered some comfort.

"You okay? Whoa what's up with the hair?" Still dazed, she lifted her head to touch her long hair. It was her pride and joy, treated with the best shampoos and conditioners before she brushed it 100 times each morning. It hung in a shiny sheet past her shoulder blades, always soft.

"Where…?" To her right, Kakashi knelt to be at eyelevel with her. He placed a gloved hand on her shoulder.

"Did you sustain any head trauma during your mission? Do-"

"Where's my husband?" Sakura demanded as she focused her accusatory stare on the silver-haired man. At this, Naruto's laughter exploded into the air. He clutched at his belly as he lost balance. Rolling around in the grass, Naruto laughed and laughed until no sound came out of his mouth at all.

"Husband?" Kakashi repeated in the same slow, concerned tone. Sakura nodded, frowning at Naruto's attitude.

"And where's Sasuke-kun? Why isn't he here with you? I need to speak with my brother-in-law." At this, Naruto and Kakashi were completely silent. She caught the two men exchange worried looks.

"What?" they asked at the same time. When Sakura eyed them with confusion, Naruto sat up to clasp her hands in his. She automatically tried to pull away from him. She really didn't see much of her former teammate so the touch was unexpected and almost alien.

"What's your full name, Sakura-chan?" he inquired.

"Uchiha Sakura," Sakura replied without hesitation. She heard Kakashi suck in a slow, drawn-out breath.

"Shit."

Kakashi and Naruto spoke together in hushed, urgent tones, their heads bent closer together. Every once in a while, one of them would look up at her and then continue to argue in an even angrier, rushed tone. Finally, Naruto looked up and let out a deep sigh.

"Come on, Sakura-chan. We're taking you to the Hokage," Naruto declared as he held out his hand for her.

"Oh good. Maybe Sarutobi-sama can explain some things," she sighed as she let him pull her to her feet. She completely missed Naruto shooting Kakashi another wide-eyed look. However when they reached the tower, they were greeted on the third floor by a woman a few years older than her. This woman with short black hair smiled at Sakura as she casually asked how her mission had gone. Puzzled, Sakura automatically replied that things had gone well, despite the fact that she had no idea what this strange woman was talking about. Kakashi and Naruto seemed to know her well though because they stopped to chat with her for a while.

"Sakura, what happened to your hair?" the woman suddenly asked. At this, Sakura turned up her nose, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I've been instructed not to speak to commoners. Please address me properly," Sakura snapped. The woman blinked at her a few times before she laughed, clapping her hard on the shoulder.

"Very funny. Come on. Tsunade-sama's free at the moment."

Sakura glared at the woman, rubbing at her sore arm. For such a thin woman, it was surprising how hard she hit. Throwing the strange woman one last glare, Sakura brushed past her and into the office. At the Hokage's desk sat a young woman with gold hair falling into her face.

"Tsunade-sama, Sakura's returned from her mission." At this, the woman's honey-colored eyes flickered up.

"That was quick. No problems on the way home, I assume? And what did you do with your hair?" the woman demanded. Sakura stared blankly at the woman at the desk and then at the dark-haired woman still standing in the doorway. As she tried to process all these strange people, a pig snuffled its way up to her and rubbed against her leg. Sakura let out a shriek, stumbling away from the animal and straight into a stranger's arms.

"Watch where you step, Ugly." Sakura looked up to see a man smiling down at her. He had the palest skin she had ever seen.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"And who are you? And why are you sitting in Sarutobi-sama's place?" Sakura continued, pointing at the busty woman.

"Watch out, Sai. She's a little out of whack today," Naruto said to the dark-haired man.

"And please don't touch me! My husband-"

"Sakura, you're not married. Why would you be married already?" Kakashi cut in with a huff of exasperation. Fuming, Sakura stuck out her left hand at him.

"See? My wedding ring! It's a precious family… heirloom…." Sakura trailed off as he looked down and found her ring finger bare. With a squeak of panic, she patted her skimpy clothes and then looked around the floor, wondering if it had slipped off at some point. But there was no sparkle of diamond and gold.

"Sakura-chan, what's going on?"

* * *

><p>A day passed in the strangely backwards world, and then two.<p>

Though it was spring, the air was stagnant. Each breath she took felt sickly sweet and impossibly heavy.

Hanging her feet off the back porch, Sakura dipped just her toes onto the koi pond, watching the flashy orange and white fish circle curiously around before rushing away. She wiggled her big toe and one of the bigger fish swam up to nibble at it. With an agitated sigh, she drew her feet out of the water and folded her legs neatly beneath her.

"What's wrong?" Sasuke asked as he settled next to her. Sakura turned her head away, not speaking. Apparently in this weird place, she had been very close to her "husband's" brother. But she couldn't speak to him normally, not after all that he had done- she had done. She knew that the Sasuke here wasn't like that, but she simply couldn't wipe away the image of Sasuke's sharingan flaring violently as his sword whistled through the air.

"Nii-san's talking to Sarutobi-sama right now. Maybe the old man knows something about your situation." As Sasuke spoke, she heard a strange hitch in his words that her trained ears caught on to. It was a familiar noise, one she heard often. Finally looking over at him, she saw that his right arm hung limply at his side as his left hand clamped firmly over his bicep.

"Let me see," she sighed, her years of training kicking in. Sasuke tried to wave her off.

"I know you studied healing a little but I don't want to bother you. You're always so tired afterwards," Sasuke said. Frustrated, she grabbed his shoulder and jerked him towards her, using a little chakra to keep him in place.

"Now hold still," Sakura snapped. Sasuke's eyes went wide but he didn't say anything. Peeling his fingers away, she found a long, thin gash slicing across his skin. She eyed the wound with clinical objectivity, prodding along the inflamed skin and ignoring his hisses of pain. After she pulled up the sleeve of her tunic, she placed her right hand directly over the injury, letting her palm touch the hot blood. As she flooded chakra to her palm, she saw Sasuke twitch. She knew that the sudden barrage of cool chakra would sometimes feel unpleasant.

"Sorry. Just a little longer," she assured him as she delved deeper into the tissue to extract the minute traces of poison that had caused all the swelling. With a little twitch of her fingers, she coaxed the dark purple poison out in a long thread that coiled around her forearm like a twitching snake. Her chakra then split, spreading into a hundred smaller tendrils that pulled the layers of skin together, each separate piece soothing and generating new cells. It was a technique she had perfected just after becoming a Jounin, speeding up the healing process by nearly 50%. When she pulled her hand back, the threads of chakra clung to Sasuke's arm like spider silk. With a quick shake of her arm, the poison thread looped around her arm dissolved in a hiss.

"Does it hurt anywhere?" Sakura asked as she carefully pressed her fingers along the faint pink line. But Sasuke didn't seem to be paying attention to his arm. Instead, he grabbed hold of her hand and flipped it palm up.

"What?" she demanded as she tried to yank her hand free. Sasuke stared raptly down at her palm before he cautiously touched it with his fingertips.

"Your hands are all rough," he quietly observed. Using a little burst of chakra, she wretched her arm out of his grip and self-consciously rubbed her palms together.

"They're not that rough…. I use lotion," she muttered mostly to herself.

"Jackass," she added under her breath even though she knew he would hear her. At this, Sasuke tilted his head to the side, observing her with wary eyes.

"You're… you're really not her. My sister-in-law would never say that," Sasuke said. Looking back down at her feet, Sakura nodded.

"What's different about your world?" Sasuke inquired and Sakura squeezed her eyes shut. That was the question she had been dreading from the moment he had appeared. She wondered how she could possibly explain everything, the twisted vines of the village's bloody secrets. How could she ever say something like that to the Sasuke who stood before her, the one who still had an entire clan? How could she ever stain the image he had of his beloved brother? So she shook her head, mashing her lips together.

"Is it that bad?" he pressed.

"I see people here who have already died in my world. It's a little sad to be here," Sakura simply admitted, refusing to reveal anything else. Though he seemed far from satisfied, Sasuke made a noise of assent and didn't ask her to speak again. Instead, they sat in silence. She heard the soft splash as Sasuke dipped his toes into the pond to cool them off. He let out a long sigh before there was a muted thud. Opening her eyes, Sakura found Sasuke lying on his back, arms crossed underneath his head. When their gazes met, Sasuke gave her a smile that she had never seen on him before.

"I guess you could have been this happy," she softly remarked, turning away from him again.

"Sakura, the Hokage wishes to speak with you," Itachi said as he hopped onto the roof and then landed gracefully on the porch beside her. He seemed to reach for her automatically, probably seeing his wife in her place. But he caught himself at the last moment, maintaining a respectful distance. As she got to her feet, Sasuke sat up.

"Want us to go with you?" the younger Uchiha offered. The open concern in his eyes stabbed her deep in the chest.

"No," Sakura sighed as she slipped on her sandals and crossed the small garden to exit through the back gate. Apparently, in this world, she wasn't a respected kunoichi and healer. It wasn't normal for her to jump across rooftops and go drinking with her comrades like she had always done. Rather, she was the wife of a respected shinobi. She wore kimonos and arranged flowers and smiled at everyone. And though she had apparently studied medical ninjutsu a little, she wasn't very skilled. So, grinding her teeth together, Sakura slowly walked across the village, not making eye contact with the familiar strangers surrounding her. When she arrived at the Hokage Tower, she was met with a few unfamiliar faces among the guards. Still, they seemed to recognize her well enough and immediately let her through. Upon reaching the familiar wooden door, she knocked three times with firm raps.

"Come in."

The wrinkled face of the old man sitting at the desk brought back a surge of memories, most of them painful: Orochimaru's wide maw, Sasuke's back as he left, Naruto sitting alone on the swings as parents all walked past to pick up their children.

"Please have a seat, Uchiha-san."

The name was so alien. But she complied, settling in one of the chairs facing his desk. She crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for him to speak. But Sarutobi's eyes lingered on her arms for a long moment before his mouth opened.

"It has come to my attention that… you are suffering from some sort of fugue," the old man said. At this, Sakura snorted.

"No. I'm suffering from some sort of warped genjutsu in which you're alive, Hokage-sama, Uchiha Itachi is a loyal shinobi of Konoha and Sasuke isn't rotting somewhere in the ground!" she retorted, jabbing her finger into his desk. There was a pregnant pause and then the Hokage's eyes narrowed. Folding his fingers together on top of the desk, his eyes invited her to continue speaking.

"You, along with your advisors, ordered Uchiha Itachi to destroy the Uchiha clan. You suspected an Uchiha of unleashing the Kyuubi on the village so you treated them all as suspects, prisoners. You fostered unrest and then declared that the Uchiha clan needed to be eliminated. And so Itachi did it. He murdered his entire family except for Sasuke who later went mad with hatred. Sasuke ended up killing Itachi and when he learned about who was actually to blame for the massacre, he came after Konoha." As she spoke, she heard the door open and close, she heard the footsteps. And just from the chakra signatures, she knew who the two people standing behind her were. But she didn't care. The years of bitterness and anger that couldn't be directed were pouring out.

"So, Sasuke teamed up with Uchiha Madara to destroy the village of Konoha. Later…I was sent as part of a team to assassinate Uchiha Sasuke," she said, her voice dying down to a whisper. Her hands fisted together in the fabric of her shirt. And suddenly she couldn't control herself. Twisting around in her seat, she stared directly into Sasuke's face. His eyes widened and she could almost touch his confusion.

"So I'm not insane. I don't know what's going on or why I'm here, but I need to leave," she finished, finally looking up to meet the Hokage's eyes.

There was a heavy silence in the office until the Hokage slowly took off his hat and placed his hands over his face.

"Uchiha-no. Haruno Sakura-san, may I have a word with you in private?" the Hokage requested in a low voice that left no room for argument. There was a lengthy pause before she heard Itachi clear his throat quietly. She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see him leave the room, Sasuke just a few steps behind him.

"You want to know the rest," she whispered, turning back to the Hokage. He nodded as if his head weighed a million pounds.

She left the room an hour later, throat sore from speaking for so long. Sasuke- not Itachi was waiting for her outside the tower. His eyes were closed, hands jammed deep into his pockets. There was a furrow in his brow that she realized she had never seen in this place before. When she stepped onto the dirt road, tiredly rubbing at the back of her neck, his eyes snapped open.

"Sasuke-kun," she sighed as he pushed off the wall. For a moment, there was deep-set anger in his gaze that made her want to take a step away from him. Then his expression softened, smoothing out in some places.

"I guess… in your world… I wasn't your brother-in-law, huh?" he joked weakly, taking his hands out of his pockets. Sakura shook her head. As a gust of cool wind hit them, she rubbed at her exposed arms. She had managed to dig out some old clothes from storage; her sleeveless red shirt with the high collar had still been wearable. The Uchiha crest stitched into the back sent a twinge through her each time she remembered it was there.

"C'mon. I'll take you home," Sasuke quietly said as he put his left arm around her. She flinched a little and she knew that he had noticed. Thinking quickly, she looked around.

"Wait. I'm supposed to be married to your brother. Won't people talk?" she quickly inquired. A chuckle she didn't recognize rumbled out of him.

"Not here, Sakura. Here, you're known as the Uchiha clan's little princess," Sasuke told her as he began walking. And while she matched his footsteps, she closed her eyes. Laying her head against his chest, she listened to the steady pump of his heart. It thudded reassuringly, almost seeming to say one thing:

Alive

The walk back to the Uchiha district was strange to say the least. Then again, 20 years of silence weren't present there. The Uchiha clan was alive and well all around her. As she looked at the old men sitting on porches and smoking their pipes, the fragrant smoke stung her eyes. When people noticed them, which was inevitable with Sakura's hair, there were smiles, some titters.

"My, my, Sasuke-kun. Were you off escorting our little princess today?"

Their high-pitched laughs made her upper lip curl. As if sensing her irritation, Sasuke's fingers tightened around her upper arm. Still, Sasuke laughed too.

"Well, Auntie, Sakura's a little tired so if you'll excuse us," Sasuke smoothly said as he bowed and hurried past the older women. Once inside the small house, Sasuke pushed her inside and hurriedly slid the door shut behind them. But as soon as she set foot inside, a chakra that she had long learned to fear appeared. Sakura whirled around, drawing chakra to her palms and shoving Sasuke behind her. Itachi stood in the foyer, her hands hanging passively at his sides. She hesitated for another moment before she relaxed, unbending her knees and letting the chakra fade with a hiss.

"I'll be upstairs," Itachi quietly said. Sakura almost stopped him. For an instant, she saw a glint of longing in his eyes. He was definitely seeing his wife, who, according to what she had seen, was so devoted to her husband, suddenly seemed ready to bare her teeth at the mere sight of him. But she watched wordlessly as Itachi climbed the stairs and the sound of a screen door sliding shut traveled down to them.

"I'll talk to him later," Sasuke assured her, attracting her attention again. And this time, she was also able to properly look around the small house.

Sakura knew it was her home. The framed picture of a patch of wildflowers hanging in the hallway was from her mother's house. She recognized the potted orchid on the windowsill; the one Ino had given to her as a birthday present many years ago. In this house, a strange house, she stood in the foyer, staring. Sasuke, however, seemed to be perfectly comfortable slipping out of his shoes and stepping up onto the raised platform that led to the rest of the house. Sakura stared after him, eyes glued to the red and white fan on his back. After a few seconds, he seemed to notice her hesitation.

"Come on," Sasuke said, turning to look at her. So, toeing off her black sandals, she stepped up and looked around, fingers clenching and unclenching nervously. With a loud sigh of exasperation, Sasuke took her by the arm and pulled her into the kitchen. He poured her a glass of water and made her drink the entire thing before he pulled her to the back porch.

They were quiet for a long time. Sitting side by side and each silent, they watched the sun drop below the horizon. When frogs began crooning and bugs began chirping in earnest, when the stifling silence had lost its hold on the day, Sakura opened her mouth.

"Itachi was ordered to wipe out your entire family. But he couldn't kill you. Naruto told me that Itachi loved you too much to murder you," Sakura began. She paused, following the path of a dragonfly buzzing sluggishly across the top of the pond.

"He told you to hate him, to grow stronger. When we were both 16, you killed him. When we were 18, Naruto, Yamato, Shikamaru and I were sent to eliminate you. The 5 kages decided that you were too great of a threat to be left alive any longer," continued Sakura, eyes fixated on the pond. She stirred the surface of the water with her foot and bright white and orange koi rose to the surface, roused from their lethargy. As she remembered Naruto's face when the order went out, Sakura clenched her hand into a fist.

"I ripped out your heart," she admitted in a tight voice. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to take big breaths.

"I tore out your heart and I held it in my hand. And as you lay dying in my lap, you smeared your blood all over my face and said two words: 'Damn it,'" Sakura whispered, her voice shaking from the effort not to smash everything to bits.

"….Why?"

"I'm sorry, Sasuke-kun, but it was for the safety of all the great shinobi nations," she replied, bowing her head.

"No. I mean, why did you have to do it? Why not Naruto?" Sasuke clarified. At this, Sakura's eyes slowly opened. She tilted her head towards him. A small laugh devoid of all humor suddenly left her. Pulling up her shirt, she revealed the pale skin of her stomach. Her small scar from her battle with Sasori was nearly invisible in comparison to the white star-shaped mark above her bellybutton. Thin tendrils spread out from the center, singes from uncontrolled electricity that had burnt through the flesh.

"Because Naruto knew he could forgive me," she replied in almost a whisper. Sasuke's dark eyes were wide with confusion. Overwhelmed with affection for this child-like Sasuke who had still outlived the Sasuke she knew by a few years, she reached out and patted his cheek. His gaze, unclouded by hatred, was so precious, so rare.

"No matter what happened, Naruto knew I would forgive him. And no matter what I did, Naruto knew he could forgive me. But he also knew that he would never be able to forgive himself if he killed you. So… I had to do it," Sakura explained, her eyes filling with tears as she dropped her hand.

"That's why it hurts to see you here, Sasuke-kun. So I'm begging you. Please, don't be so kind to me," she sighed as she got to her feet. When she looked up, she saw Itachi's hands hanging out the window. As she watched, soft white flower petals trickled past his fingers and landed on top of the dark pond.

* * *

><p>She had burrowed deep under the covers, curling up on her side. The mattress warped to accommodate her weight, rising up to hug her shape. If she lay still enough and pretended very hard, she could almost feel the weight of her husband's arm draped across her waist. Tears occasionally escaped her, wetting her hands that were pillowed under her cheek. There was a sharp knock. Her eyes snapped open. She was momentarily blinded by the white of the covers against the white sheets and her own pale skin. The knock cut the silence again and she almost wanted to cry. When she didn't respond, it was the window and not the door that opened.<p>

"When's the last time you've eaten, Sakura-chan?" Naruto asked as a warm wind spilled inside. Her shoulders tensed as she tried to fend off the invasive air.

"Do you even know what day it is?" he demanded when she didn't say anything. His sigh was sharp enough to make her want to crawl under the bed and clamp her hands firmly over her ears. His heavy footsteps traveled across the floor, pacing angrily back and forth.

"Fine," Naruto grumbled out. The door creaked open and then rattled as he roughly closed it behind him. Sakura shifted, tucking her head under her arm.

"Are you waiting to die?"

It was a voice tinged with sadness. Her breath caught in her throat as she carefully inched the covers down. She peered over the top of the sheets, past her arm, until she could see the tight line of his mouth.

"They told me that you're a criminal," she whispered. At this, the corner of his mouth curved, a dried out husk of a smile.

"What else did they tell you?" he asked. At this, Sakura sat up straight, hugging the covers tightly to her chest. Her eyes wide with fear, she dug her fingers deep into the fabric, twisting hard.

"That you wiped out the entire Uchiha family. That I'm not married to you. That I'm… I'm supposedly a kunoichi who… um… 'breaks rocks and trees and shit with her fists'?" Sakura said, repeating the words Naruto had excitedly thrown at her just a few days before.

Uchiha Itachi stared down at her with bright red eyes, sharingan flaring. But the sight was almost comforting now. She sat frozen in place. Although she couldn't feel his extremely well-concealed chakra, the weight of his full gaze on her stole her breath away. He took a step towards her and she automatically tensed, less out of fear and more out of anticipation. Each of his movements was so sure, so graceful, almost as if he didn't waste any unnecessary energy.

"Why are you here?" she asked in a whisper, suddenly remembering that Naruto had just left the room. For the past few days Ino and Naruto had been taking turns hovering out there, probably waiting to pounce as soon as she set foot outside. But Itachi didn't seem at all worried about being discovered. She hadn't been in this place long but something told her that a mass-murderer and criminal dropping by someone's home wouldn't be received too happily by the village.

"I cast a genjutsu over this building. Don't worry," Itachi said.

"Why are you here?" she inquired again, this time in a louder voice. To her surprise, he took another step closer and then, with the faintest of touches, brushed his hand against her cheek.

"Who knows?" he replied before a swarm of black feathers enveloped him and then he was gone.

It was after that visit that she moved to the window, eyes always searching rooftops. A heavy cloud of rain settled over Konoha, soaking everything through until the roads below were constantly shifting from being unmanageable slurry to slightly sticky mud. The sky was always slightly grey, even on sunny days. She sat in bed all day, covers pulled tightly around her shoulders as she stared out the window. She was constantly stroking her bare ring finger, searching for the ring that had mysteriously disappeared.

And every night, a strange quiet settled over the room, blocking out Naruto or Ino's snores depending on which day it was. It fluttered down softly like a blanket over a lamp, muting everything into a soft stillness. There was no creak of a door, no squeak of a window. One instant she was alone and the next, he was there. Even if he didn't speak, his presence was so large, so very present that it was impossible not to notice. He didn't always speak and neither did she.

Sometimes, it was simply the silence that bridged them.

"Isn't it dangerous for you to be here?" she asked one day. She was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. He stood at the window, hands clasped in front of him.

"Not particularly."

"That's nice then."

"Yes. It's nice."

Sometimes they sat not acknowledging each other's presences for hours and hours, just staring up at the sky or down at the floor. Every once in a while, she got the feeling that he wanted to say something, but he always restrained himself at the last moment.

"You said that you were married to me in another world?" he queried one day. This time, she was curled up on the rug, arms hugging securely around her middle. When he spoke, she found herself rubbing her bare ring finger up and down her arm, trying to rid the strange feeling of emptiness lingering there.

"He said that it was his grandmother's. A diamond retrieved from the lands to the far west," she softly replied.

'You're a little young to be married."

"Maybe to be with someone else. I was always ready to marry him."

At times, during the day when she was alone, she wondered what always drew him back. No matter how skilled of a genjutsu user he was, it was undoubtedly risky always venturing to see her. There were nights that she wanted to ask why, nights where she also wanted to know when he had scratched a line through the swirling leaf adorning his forehead protector.

How could she ask him?

He sometimes looked ready to break apart in a million irretrievable pieces if she looked at him too hard.

"You always look like you're waiting to die, you know," he suddenly told her one day. The abruptness of his voice was almost sharp against her skin. She was perching carefully on the windowsill, one foot hanging out, one foot dangling above the floor inside. The sounds of Naruto rolling over in his sleep penetrated the thin walls. He wouldn't hear them but Sakura still flinched. A foreign noise in this world of whispers was never welcome. Itachi, who had been sitting on the edge of her bed suddenly seemed to lose all energy and flopped onto his back.

"Isn't everyone? Especially a shinobi like you…." She replied but stopped herself midway. Eyes wide with chagrin, she slowly looked over at him. He didn't look angry though.

"Why are you still alive then?" Sakura boldly posed a question of her own. At this, he actually looked at her, dark eyes searching for something.

"I died once," he began as his gaze drifted to stare past her, out the window.

"I thought I had been freed from my past. It was selfish but I thought that by me being freed, it would free Sasuke too. But I was brought back and Sasuke was only twisted by my lack of insight."

"Twisted?" Sakura repeated. The only image of Sasuke she could conjure up was his smile, his wry sense of humor. Her brother, her friend. She couldn't imagine him any other way, especially warped by a burning desire for vengeance.

"I know that in this place, you're the one that stopped his heart. But by all accounts, I was the one that killed him," Itachi said. The soft lilt of his words were a million knifepoints all whistling through the air, twisting and gouging in between her ribs and into her heart.

"I…. I killed him?" she softly said.

"It's what got your name in the bingo book."

"And you? Why don't you hate me for that?" she inquired, imagining her husband's face whenever he heard that his little brother was in the hospital. She knew that to some extent, her husband loved his brother more than he would ever love her. It didn't hurt though. He loved her more than he would love any other woman so that was good enough for her. But the way he threw himself into anything for Sasuke sometimes made her feel unnecessary, unloved even.

"I thank you for freeing him," he corrected her.

That almost comforted her, almost made her feel better. Two weeks after waking up in a strange world that definitely wasn't her own, Sakura finally left her apartment. It was close to noon, people bustling around in the market and chattering happily with friends. She skirted along, practically hugging the walls as she walked. She supposed that it was the same as the place she had grown up in, following her mother to the market when she went grocery shopping. She wanted to see her mother, to ask her what was different, what was the same. But Ino had told her that she had passed away a couple years ago during some massive attack on the village.

Cruel.

She finally made her way to the Uchiha district. Only there was no district. Apparently during the reconstruction of the village, they had decided that rebuilding a place where no one lived was unnecessary. The memories of the Uchiha clan no longer existed. She stood where her home should have been, the small wooden building that had been given to her as a wedding present. Sakura stared at the patch of dead grass and weeds. An old glass bottle protruded from between leaves, growing there like an alien plant.

She stumbled home, dazed, and promised herself not to leave the apartment again. That night, when Itachi came to visit, they didn't speak to each other. She only curled up in the corner of the room and sobbed and sobbed until her voice disappeared.

* * *

><p>That night, laying on the cool futon, Haruno Sakura listened very carefully. Naruto had told her that when he had gone off training with the toads, he had learned to feel chakra, to sense the ebb and flow of nature. In that quiet time, staring up at the wooden ceiling, she wondered if this was what Naruto also sensed. The floorboards creaked a little each time she moved. Itachi had pulled their futons apart, pushing hers an arm's length away. The gesture was touching, but she got the feeling that all he could manage, to be just a little apart from his wife.<p>

Sakura knew he couldn't possibly be sleeping. The deep, even patterns of his breaths would have fooled anyone else. The faint scent of smoke clung to him, the smell of the dying sputters of a fire blown out in a gentle puff of wind.

She had watched him shave once in the morning, her eyes glued to the sharp blade held so deftly in his hand. The sweet, almost tangy scent of his soap had filled the bathroom. She had hovered in the doorway, arms crossed firmly over her chest and him stubbornly keeping his stance relaxed. Somehow, as the sharpened razor glided over the hard line of his jaw, as her gaze followed every smooth motion of his hand, she had let her arms fall away.

"You love her," she softly said. His eyes looked at her in the mirror.

"I do," he replied as he rinsed the razor off in the sink. He flicked it once to get rid of stray water before he set it on the countertop.

"Why?" Sakura asked. Itachi rinsed his face, running his hands over his smooth chin and above his lip. When he straightened, he snatched a towel off the rack to dry his face. A smile curved at his mouth, one filled with such warmth and longing that for an instant she felt a pang of intense jealousy.

"She's the one person in this whole world who will love me whether I succeed or not," he replied.

As Sakura took a deep breath, the futon on the other side of the room stirred. He sat up, running a hand over his face and through his hair. She didn't pretend to be asleep. Her eyes drifted towards him. The darkness of his irises was piercing the instant before he stood and walked out of the room.

* * *

><p>The window was always unlocked for him.<p>

She waited for him, each hour ticking by unbearably slowly until he arrived. She liked it best when he asked her questions about her married life, about her family and especially about Sasuke. Sometimes she wondered if he wanted to hear just for the sake of punishing himself. Sakura couldn't imagine what had been so different about the boy who was dead in this world. Sasuke had always been so smart, so charming. He was intensely loyal, intensely loving. Even though he pretended to be rivals with Naruto, she knew that Sasuke would give up everything in an instant for his best friend. And most importantly, Sasuke was her brother. To see the name traitor attached to him was something she simply couldn't process.

"He was consumed by vengeance," Itachi told her one night. She didn't quite understand.

"Sasuke-kun would never be like that. He's such a sweet person," she insisted, rapidly shaking her head.

"I suppose that's my fault then," Itachi conceded and she immediately regretted her words.

Maybe that hadn't changed. Because this Uchiha Itachi's suffering was deep and his love for his brother fathomless. She wasn't in love with him. That was an emotion reserved just for her husband. But this battered shell of a human being was pitiable, something she instinctively wanted to swaddle up and care for. That wasn't her job though. She could feel that much.

She waited for him.

Yet that night, although midnight passed, stretching until a, there was no visitor. Sitting in bed, knees drawn up to her chest, her eyes flickered from the window to the clock above the dresser.

There was a faint mewl. A cat padding across the roofs passed the window, black tail swishing and gold eyes glaring. A soft knock on the door made her flinch.

"Hey Sakura-chan, I'm heading home. Ino'll be by in the morning," Naruto's muffled voice told her. He had stopped opening the door to look at her altogether. She was glad. That wasn't the face she wanted to see at the moment. He waited for a minute before his heavy footfalls tramped off.

* * *

><p>This time, it wasn't an indistinct sound that pulled them. It was a gentle whisper, one that caressed the inside of the ear. It spoke one word, as if it was the only word that existed.<p>

_"Come__,"_ it coaxed in a gentle hum.

So they rose, eyes staring blankly at the sky. Hands gripped the edge of the windowsill and then they were flying through the cool air. Feet lightly touched on rooftops before they pushed off again. The voice pulled harder and harder, drawing each to a darkened corner of Konoha where the trees fanned over the dark grass in a gentle bow. There was a puddle, so black that there appeared to be no bottom. The wavering reflection that stared back up smiled, like a person hiding a secret. The air suddenly felt so unbearably cold and the water so invitingly warm. There was a moment of hesitation where toes skimmed across the rippling surface. But the voice whispered again, an indistinct sound that might have been made of words. They were just fragmented noises now that pulled at them. This time, the drop was expected, the whistling abyss of the endless drop was no longer terrifying. Just as tops of head disappeared into the black surface, frantic hands plunged into the water, grabbing.

There was nothing but falling. Or it could have been they weren't falling at all. In a place without walls or floors, it was impossible to tell except for the sound of wind scraping past ears. Out of the darkness, a pinpoint of color grew brighter and brighter. At first, it looked white until it drew closer and closer, revealing a soft shade of pink that seemed to pierce everything else.

Two women with matching green eyes and pink hair drew together, pulled by some invisible string. Each lifted a hand to press up against the other's. One had rough palms, short nails that betrayed years of hard work. The other had long, oval nails glossed over with polish, smooth skin. Both stared, wondering and waiting.

"You're married," one finally laughed. Her voice echoed strangely in the mysterious space. She held out a glittering diamond ring. The distinctive uchiwa was engraved into the diamond band on either side of the gem.

"I am. And you're not…" the other replied, taking the piece of jewelry and slipping it onto the finger that had felt so empty, almost raw and vulnerable without that reassuring weight. A fleeting smile passed between them. Then, as if someone had told them to do so, they looked up. It was like they were underwater. Just above their heads were twin holes with different faces peering down at them, their expressions distorted by water. The one with shorter hair lifted her hand up to the surface. Though it looked like she should be able to reach, her fingers never broke through to the top. With a sigh, she lowered her hand.

"You killed Sasuke-kun," one of them suddenly said.

"I did."

"Are you going to miss seeing him?"

"No. Because he's not mine."

They regarded each other, faces that were both exactly the same and so different all at once. Finally, they grasped the other's hand in a firm shake that conveyed so much more than words could begin to.

"Goodbye," they said at once to each other.

The Sakura with short hair looked up one last time. She made out the wavering faces of the Uchiha brothers peering down into the abyss. All she could think to give was a smile and then a sigh. The face she had always loved so dearly was searching so frantically for his sister-in-law. She wanted to take his face in her hands and kiss him just once, just so she would remember this boy with a big heart and a laugh that didn't sound like cracking glass. But she needed to remind herself that this wasn't her boy. This wasn't the boy and then the broken man she had grown to love.

The Sakura with long hair also looked up at the pale face hovering over the edge. She still had so much to ask. There were so many stories about his brother that she still wanted to share. Sometimes he had revealed such a brokenness about him that she felt the need to tell him that his brother was happy in her world at least. She had forgotten to tell him that Sasuke had once saved a woman from drowning. That had to mean something, right? Or maybe she would remind him that at the very least, she loved the man she had married and that meant he couldn't be such an awful human being. The sound of her other self's sigh reminded her that this wasn't her place. This wasn't her family.

With slow, deliberate steps, each took a step past the other. Giving one another a final, tremulous smile, they raised their hands to the top. Different hands reached down to lift them up to the surface. And they both closed their eyes as their heads breached the top of the water.

* * *

><p>"What are you thinking about?" Sakura asked as she leaned against the door frame. The dark silhouette of her husband standing at the window had long become familiar to her. He looked over his shoulder at her before he held his hand out in an invitation. Though the autumn air was growing chilly, she crossed the room to join him. He draped his arms over her shoulders, cloaking her with his body heat.<p>

"She told me something about you," he murmured against her temple. She tilted her head to look up at him.

"What did she say?" Sakura inquired. She couldn't help but smile as she remembered the woman who apparently leveled whole patches of forest and then turned around to save the injured. What a paradox.

"She told me that you have the potential to become the most skilled medic in the village. And she asked me to push you to learn," Itachi replied. He remembered the easy way her chakra split into a hundred green threads that swooped inwards to heal. The pure satisfaction in her eyes afterwards was something he had never seen in his wife's face. Looking down at her sweet, innocent expression, he hugged her just a little tighter.

"That sounds like some great advice," Sakura replied, stretching upwards to press a kiss to his jaw. Linking her hands around the back of his neck, she let him lift her into his arms. Staring up at the endless sky, she took a deep breath and pressed her cheek against Itachi's chest.

* * *

><p>"Aren't you supposed to be dead?" Sakura asked as she leaned against the doorframe. The dark silhouette of a strangely familiar figure was sitting on her windowsill. The edge of his cloak was tattered, like he had travelled a long ways. He lifted his head a little to look at her with piercing red eyes. She wasn't afraid though. Though the autumn air was growing chilly, she crossed the room with sure steps. He stood and she was surprised. She had expected him to be so much taller. Then again, his presence was more than enough to make anyone feel like a child in comparison.<p>

"You followed her that night," she said. It wasn't a question. The person who had pulled her out of the pond was undoubtedly Uchiha Itachi. Although he had disappeared before she could get a proper look at him, somehow she had known.

"You're not much like her," Itachi suddenly remarked in a quiet voice. Sakura let out an unlady-like snort as she remembered the rows of silk kimonos and expensive combs the woman had kept in her closet. She rubbed her roughened palms together, relishing the feel of her callouses scraping against each other.

"I guess not," she agreed with a little laugh.

"So where do we go from here?" Sakura suddenly inquired as she took another step towards him. Something like a smile tugged at his mouth as he reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes.

"I don't know," he simply replied.

And somehow, that answer was what worked for them.

* * *

><p>Thanks (as always) to all my readers and reviewers. Be sure to post more prompts in the reviews if you can think of anything! I'd like to request that the prompts be kept to a word (or a short statement).<p> 


	11. 24 Hours

Happy birthday Sakura. May this year bring you more butt-kicking scenes.

* * *

><p><span>24 Hours<span>

suggested by MiserysNightmare

"Hey! The two shinobi over there!"

The patrons of the bar looked around. Faint flashes of metal bounced around the room as men prepared to draw their swords. But there was no woman among them. Puzzled, they exchanged looks until one noticed the pale face peering out from across the street.

"Don't ignore me! I see you!" she yelled again, grabbing hold of the wooden bars. She wedged her head through the bars and then twisted her shoulders past, hanging halfway into the street.

"Hey! Big guy at the bar!' she called, ignoring the hands grabbing at her legs and arms, trying to yank her back inside.

"Oiran, get back in here!" a man roared from behind her. The woman looked over her shoulder to glare ferociously.

"Get your grubby paws off me, jackass!" she snarled, kicking at him before she looked back out at the bar.

"If you get me home in 24 hours, I'll give you 20 ryo!" the woman shouted.

"Idiot! Where the hell are you going to get that kind of money?" the man snorted, throwing his arms around her waist and pulling her back inside. The woman elbowed him in the face as she struggled to reach into the front of her kimono. After some struggle, she managed to pull out a shining gold piece out.

"See? I have more! So are you going to help me or not?" she shrieked as the burly man managed to lock his arms around her and heave her through the bars. Her foot flailed violently, sending her sandal flying into the street. All eyes turned to the two men sitting rather calmly at the bar.

"She's got a good eye," the shorter of the two men remarked.

"And she's got some good money. Should we help her?" the taller grunted in response.

"I suppose," the first man sighed as he tossed a few coins onto the bar and stood.

Inside the brothel across the street, a vase went flying through the air, shattering against the floor.

"What? You think I want to stay here in this shithole with you?" she sneered.

"Do you have any idea how much you owe us for taking care of you, Oiran? You should be grateful!"

"Sorry to interrupt, but how much did you say you would give us?" a deep voice calmly interjected. The furious woman whirled around to see the two men from the bar peering past the wooden slats in the door to look right at her. She brazenly reached into the front of her kimono and tossed the money at them.

"Half now. Half when you get me to my destination," she said. The man on the left lifted the brim of his bamboo hat to look down at her. The striking crimson of his eyes under a fan of thick eyelashes was terrifying and beautiful. She watched his gaze linger on her before flickering over to his partner.

"You got yourself a deal, lady. Now if you'd do us a favor and duck," the taller man said. She barely had time to place her hands on top of her head and move out of the way as a gigantic sword crashed through the door, swinging in a wild arc. In the hectic avalanche of crumbling wood and plaster, one of them tossed her over his shoulder and took off. She was still coughing and tearing five minutes later.

"Now where's your destination, Miss?" the tall man cheerfully inquired. Rubbing at her eyes with her sleeves, she looked around to realize that she was flung over his shoulder in a rather undignified manner.

"Just as far as the gates of Konoha will be fine," she replied.

"Konoha, huh? You didn't strike me as the noble type. And the pink hair?" he commented. She scowled as she punched him hard in the left shoulder blade. She watched with satisfaction as he winced.

"Don't make me drop you," he growled. In response, she bent her leg to wiggle her bare left foot in his face.

"I can't so you'll have to be my horsey for today," she sniffed. After another minute, she poked the side of his neck. He grunted.

"Can you at least carry me in a slightly less humiliating manner? I sort of want to see the scenery. I haven't been allowed outside of that brothel in almost five years," she said. For a moment, she worried that he would drop her when he stopped walking. Instead, with surprising gentleness for a man his size, he set her on the ground. He took off his hat to wipe at the sweat gathering on his brow.

"What are you staring at?" he grumbled.

"You're blue," she flatly said.

"Your hair's pink," he snapped.

"So?" she countered with a shrug. The man chuckled as he put his hat back on and then knelt in front of her. She hesitated for a moment before she perched carefully on his left shoulder. When he stood, she grabbed onto a fistful of his cloak.

"The name's Hoshigaki Kisame. Professional shinobi and part-time overeater. You are?" Kisame introduced himself with a grin. She was quiet for a while, her green eyes glued to the rice paddies sprawling out far into the horizon.

"Oiran. I am Oiran," she replied.

"Oiran, eh? But most of them girls have names given to them. Didn't you?"

"Do I really look like a girl that belongs in a brothel to you?" she asked in a flat voice. Kisame glanced at her before he shrugged, nearly jolting her off. The proud jut of her chin and the sharpness of her eyes were a little out of place in the dead stares of the red light district. Even the brazen red and gold pattern of her outer kimono was flashy, setting her apart from the other girls on display in front of every brothel.

"And by the way, where's that partner of yours?" she demanded, looking around for the man with piercing red eyes. Kisame pointed to the wooden bridge ahead.

"Quick bastard. You take care of them, Itachi?" Kisame called as they approached the cloaked figure.

"Oh yeah. Oiran, this is Uchiha Itachi. You're in luck. We both happen to be on our way to Konoha," Kisame introduced them.

"Sakura. My name's Sakura," she said, looking straight at Itachi. He took off his hat, revealing dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. He bowed his head respectfully before he replaced his hat and turned to cross the bridge. There was a faint glint of something in his gaze as his eyes lingered over her bright pink hair.

"Yeah, Sakura sounds much better than Oiran," Kisame mused as he followed after Itachi. Sakura didn't respond as she began yanking all the ornaments and pins out of her elaborately arranged hair. She began tossing them one by one into the river they were crossing. Watching the shiny bits bob their way down the water was strangely satisfying. It was only when she began smearing her make-up onto the sleeve of her kimono that Kisame noticed anything..

"Hey, what the heck are you doing?" he demanded when she tossed off her other heavy sandal and flung it into the water too. She fanned herself with one hand as she looked around the crowded streets.

"Could one of you do me a favor and go into that store and give this to the man at the counter? He'll have something for me," Sakura instructed, pressing another shiny ryo into the palm of Kisame's waiting hand. Kisame weighed the coin in his hand for a moment before he tossed it to Itachi who caught it without turning around. He didn't say anything as he ducked into the indicated store. Kisame lingered by the door while Sakura sat still raking her fingers through her hair. When Itachi re-emerged a minute later, he handed her a plain purple backpack. The fabric was sturdy and practical, almost like the bags used by shinobi during their travels.

"Ah, thank you. We should reach Konoha in a little less than a day if we cut through that forest," Sakura said, pointing to the thicket of trees towards the edge of the village.

"We should most likely stay away from the towns in the area for a while," she threw in with a thoughtful expression.

"Why would that be?" Itachi asked in a low, clear voice.

"Oiran? Isn't that Oiran? What are you doing out of the hanamachi*?"

"Shut it, you old baldies," Sakura sneered as they passed a drunken group of men stumbling out of a bar together.

"Oh man, that's definitely Oiran. Man, that naughty mouth of hers sure turns me on," one leered, snorting loudly. Kisame casually raised his arm and punched the particular man in the temple, sending him smashing into his friends.

"Kisame, that was rather rude," Itachi quietly remarked as they continued on their way.

"What? He was pissing me off!" Kisame retorted with a scowl. Itachi glanced back to look at him and then at Sakura. When their eyes met, Sakura smiled and tapped her right shoulder once with her index finger.

"That wasn't the man who was speaking. It was the one to his right," Itachi clarified.

"Eh? Really? My bad then," said Kisame as he took a few steps backwards where the staggering men were trying to shake their unconscious comrade awake. Kisame looked around with his left arm locked across Sakura's lap to stop her from tipping over.

"Ah, it was him," Sakura said, finally pointing to the portly one attempting to hide behind a lamppost.

"Great!" Kisame replied as he grabbed the man by his hair and cheerfully tossed him on top of his blacked out friend before he continued on his way. They walked for a long time, carving a winding path through the forest and bypassing another few towns before stopping to rest in a small abandoned temple. As Kisame and Itachi started a fire in the small ceremonial pit in the center of the wooden shack, Sakura turned her back to them and rummaged through the backpack Itachi had retrieved for her. When she untied her obi and shed the top two layers of her kimono, she felt their eyes on her.

"Woah. We don't have that much money, Miss," Kisame chortled as he stirred the glowing coals with a stick, trying to coax a flame to life. Sakura shot him a glare before she dug a roll of linen bandages out of her belongings and began wrapping it patiently around her chest. As the pitifully sputtering pile of shredded paper and dead weeds sparked into a fire, she lifted her arm to secure the end of the bandage.

"On your shoulder," Itachi began but trailed off when Sakura looked over at him. While Kisame was busy rummaging for food in his bag, Sakura pressed her pointer finger against her lips and then turned back to pull on a long-sleeved red tunic to hide the black swirling mark on her skin.

"What about your shoulder?" Kisame asked as he pulled out dried fish and rice balls bundled in a clean rag.

"Ah, Itachi over here's just admiring my sexy shoulders," Sakura laughed as she shimmied out of the rest of her robe and into black leggings. She sighed with relief as she tossed her luxurious clothes into a wrinkled heap in the corner and plopped herself down by the fire, crossing her legs.

"Looks like you were a pretty big cash cow. What made you want to leave so badly, little Oiran?" inquired Kisame as he reached around the fire to hand her a rice ball. She grabbed one, tearing into with vigor.

"Like I said, does this hot body look like it belongs in a shitty brothel?" Sakura snapped. She raked her free hand through her shoulder-length hair, tousling it until it fell messily into her eyes. It was refreshing to let it free after years of having it yanked and combed and arranged with hot oil until not a strand was out of place.

"There were some circumstances. Some jackasses double-crossed me and ran off with all my money. And then I somehow got tangled up in some gambling ring and ended up at that stupid brothel," she groaned, rubbing at the back of her neck. She snatched up one of the skewers and ripped off a chunk of fish with her teeth.

"Somehow? Wow. You're really something," Kisame chortled as he watched her gobble down two fish. She chattered happily about the weather and asked about what had happened in the world during her five years in near-incarceration. After dinner, she happily curled up by the fire, rubbing her stomach.

"One of you guys stay up as lookout, okay? Good night," she sang.

"Lookout? Are you serious?" Kisame snorted.

"Or not. Your choice," she sniffed before she rolled over and fell asleep almost instantly.

About an hour later, Sakura was woken by the sound of feet pounding against the ground. She bolted upright, squinting in the darkness. The fire had already fizzled down to a pile of barely glowing coals. Kisame was slumped over on the other side of the fire, lying as languidly as if he were sleeping. Itachi was sitting with his back to the wall, spine straight and arms folded over his chest. As Sakura stood, she saw Itachi and Kisame's eyes snap open.

"Those baldies said they saw her walking in this direction! Spread out! Someone search that temple too!" someone barked from outside. Sakura sighed as she grabbed her bag and slipped it over her shoulders. At the same time, Kisame slung his sword across his chest, fiddling with the buckle once to make sure it wouldn't slip off. Itachi cracked the door open, carefully peering outside.

"Your ride, my lady," Kisame whispered, kneeling in front of her. Sakura rolled her eyes.

"I have shoes now," she pointed out, pointing at the black sandals she had dug out from her bag. But she still perched herself on his shoulder and let him whisk her out of the rickety temple. By the time the fumbling group of men barged into the building, all that remained were the smoldering ashes of a dead fire, an impossibly expensive kimono wadded up into a ball, and a note scrawled across the floor in charcoal that read:

_Go die, assholes._

_Love,_

_Oiran_

"Don't you think the note was a little too much?" Kisame asked as they raced through the forest. Sakura shrugged as she swatted at clumps of leaves so they wouldn't smack her in the face.

"You know, if we keep moving at this rate, we'll reach Konoha in a couple hours," Itachi informed them from up ahead.

And as the sun slowly began crawling up from the horizon, Sakura inhaled deeply and felt the change in the air. There was a sudden stickiness, humidity that clung to her. Her eyes scoured the forest, searching for the little markers. A set of bells were tied to a set of branches. Someone's name was carved into the trunk of a tree. And just as the sky warped from crimson to pink and then finally to blue, large wooden gates emerged from the thick foliage. The guards standing at the gate perked up at their approach.

"We're here on business from Ame," Itachi said, holding up a scroll. One of the guards took it, briefly scanning it before he waved Itachi inside. But when he noticed Sakura calmly sitting on Kisame's shoulder, he gasped.

"You're-"

"Coming home. Yes, I know," Sakura interrupted, waving as Kisame strode past.

"Wait, you can let me down. I only said to the gates," Sakura said, tapping Kisame's shoulder.

"We might as well escort you home. We've come all this way," Itachi sighed as they continued down empty streets. It was still too early for any normal person to be awake. A few merchants were scattered on the streets to open their carts and prepare for a day of business.

"Hey Itachi, how come you know where to go?" Kisame demanded after a few blocks of Itachi leading the way. Sakura snorted as indelicately as possible as they turned a corner.

"I'll show you something fun, Kisame. So let's go inside that house," Sakura said, pointing to a large, sprawling compound at the end of the street. Itachi slowed down a little to let Kisame catch up to them. With each step that brought them closer to the house, Sakura's fingers twitched, tapping impatiently, plucking at Kisame's shirt. As they travelled up the stone stairs that led to the front entrance, Sakura cupped her hands around her mouth.

"Hey! Someone get up and open the door! I'm hungry!" Sakura shouted, shattering the peace. It took a minute, but the door eventually creaked open and a wrinkled face peered out, glaring up at them.

"Ah, it's-" he croaked but Kisame interrupted by shoving past, cheerfully barging into the house. He put his hand over Sakura's head to make sure it wouldn't bump against the doorway. Itachi followed the, a faint smile curling at his mouth.

"Take a right here. Go down the stairs at the end of the hall," Sakura instructed. The inside of the house was decorated in dark wood, luxurious tapestries and heirlooms scattered about. From somewhere far away, there was indistinct chatter, the sound of pots and pans clanking against one another. The atmosphere suddenly changed as they slipped past a set of sliding doors and down a set of narrow stairs. The pale white of the walls seemed to clash with the rest of the home. Underneath the sound of Kisame's heavy footfalls and Itachi's nearly silent ones, there was a tapping that didn't quite match up. When they reached another set of sliding doors, they stopped. Itachi glanced at her out of the corners of his eyes and Kisame looked at her questioningly. Sakura nodded once and Kisame shoved the door open.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing in here?" someone shouted. Kisame gaped as Sakura lithely pushed off his shoulder and launched herself into the room.

"You…. IDIOTS!" Sakura roared as she grabbed the nearest person by the collar and punched him.

"Wha-wha- Sakura?"

"THAT'S SAKURA-SAMA TO YOU!" Sakura shouted as she seized the second person and slammed her knee into his stomach.

"Calm down now, Sakura-chan. This is no way to greet your old friends," a silver-haired man calmly interrupted, grabbing her around the waist. Sakura bared her teeth as she elbowed him in the face and twisted out of his grasp.

"You're the worst of them all, Kakashi! Don't give me that innocent smile, you asshole!" she screamed, kicking him in the shins once for good measure. The three men all grimaced, holding onto their injured parts as Sakura strode angrily around the room in a ferocious circle. When she returned to her original spot, she scowled, folding her arms.

"It's been five years," she sighed, tapping her foot.

"Well, actually, it's been a little over 4 years and 11 months," one of them began so Sakura promptly planted her foot in his face.

"Five years," he amended in a muffled voice and she put her foot down, only after shoving him hard enough to topple him.

"So tell me why I've been working in a brothel for the past five years while you three sat on your asses here," Sakura spat.

"A brothel?" they all exclaimed.

"YOU CALL YOURSELVES MY BODYGUARDS? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY GROSS OLD MEN HAVE DROOLED OVER ME?" Sakura hollered. She wheeled around in a roundhouse kick that sent all three of them flying into each other.

"Wait, Sakura, I don't really get it. Am I allowed to hit these guys too?" Kisame asked, tapping Sakura's shoulder. She wheeled around, still glaring ferociously. But then her expression smoothed out into a sweet smile. She grabbed the nearest man by the back of his shirt.

"Kisame, Itachi, these three blubbering fools are my guards," Sakura introduced them.

"Guards? Wait, who the hell are you?" Kisame demanded, eying Sakura with disbelief.

"This is the only daughter of the Haruno clan, Haruno Sakura. Also known as The Pink Demon," Itachi chuckled. When Kisame continued to gape at her, Sakura rolled up her left sleeve to show off the swirling black tattoo on her shoulder that marked her as a member of her clan.

"Now one of you fools get these chakra restraints off me before I knock out all your teeth," Sakura snarled, releasing the man dangling from her grasp.

"Aren't we in a bad mood, little lady?" Kakashi chuckled despite the fact that there was a large purple bruise forming on his cheek. Still scowling fiercely, she thrust her right foot into his lap. He pulled up the edge of her legging to reveal an intricate seal encircling her ankle.

"My, my. This is pretty complex. Who did you manage to piss off this time?" Kakashi inquired as he placed his right palm on top of it.

"I'm going to shove that seal right up your ass if you don't hurry up," she snapped in response. The room fell quiet as they watched Kakashi mutter something under his breath. Slowly, the black characters fell off her ankle, sliding into melting ooze onto the floor. Sakura lifted her foot, slowly twisting it and wriggling her toes.

"Wait…If she can use her chakra, that means-" one of her guards whimpered. As if agreeing, Sakura turned to the three to crack her knuckles.

The thrashing that ensued was nothing compared to the few blows she had dealt upon them earlier. As someone's tooth went whizzing through the air, Kisame looked on with horror. He wedged himself into a corner, trying to avoid the men being swung around and smashed into each other. But Itachi stood rather calmly in the doorway, casually ducking and dodging furniture that occasionally flew in his direction.

"Itachi, this is crazy. How are you not freaking out right now? What's going on?" Kisame demanded.

"Ah, about five years ago, the precious heir to the Haruno family went missing during a simple infiltration mission. They've been searching ever since without any luck. The Uchiha and Haruno clans have always had close ties so of course my family aided the search. My father was especially motivated since it affected my future directly," Itachi explained.

"Wait, what? Is that why you decided to help her escape?" asked Kisame, scratching the back of his head.

Itachi seemed to think for a moment before he shook his head. Eyeing Kisame's puzzled expression, he calmly took a few steps toward the bloodthirsty demon still rampaging. He hooked his finger under the collar of her shirt, lifting her clean off the ground. Sakura hissed, clawing at the air as she struggled to twist herself free. Itachi dangled her in front of Kisame who took a step away from her flailing limbs.

"Because this is my fiancé," Itachi flatly stated.

The sound of Kisame's laughter could scarcely be described as human.

* * *

><p>*Hanamachi literally means "flower street". It generally refers to the red-light district.<p>

Keep the suggestions coming! Let me know what you want to see me write in the reviews.


	12. Little Black Dress

Thinking back logically, no cellist in her right mind would wear a dress. Maybe because this is fiction, with the magic of detail loopholes, Sakura managed not to flash everyone throughout the story. Confused? Then read on.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>Little<span> Black Dress

(suggested by Saiyuri Haruno)

"Deidara, I need your help."

Deidara spun around in his chair once before he put his feet up on his desk. He frowned as he reluctantly waved Itachi into his office.

"If it's about your outfit, I have nothing to say. It's disgustingly perfect," Deidara said. Itachi looked down at his simple black suit and black shirt matched with a light blue tie. But when Itachi didn't shoot back an equally snippy remark, Deidara finally looked up. He leaned back in his chair to stretch his arms over his head.

"What's up your butt, man?" Deidara demanded. Itachi crossed his arms tightly over his chest, fidgeting his fingers. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and let his hands fall to his sides.

"You know that party last night-"

"Aren't you glad you went, yeah? I got at least five phone numbers last night," Deidara interrupted with a cocky grin.

"Deidara. Shut up and listen to me. I need to find a girl from last night," Itachi groaned. A wide smile bordering on a leer stretched across Deidara's mouth as he perked up.

"Short? Tall?" he prompted as his sky blue eyes lit sparkled with excitement.

"Not particularly short or tall. Slim. Pale. And she was wearing a black dress," Itachi listed, trying to conjure up the image of her he had in his head. Deidara snorted.

"It was a black and white party, retard. They were all wearing black dresses," the blonde snapped in response. Ignoring his friend's rudeness, Itachi pressed his fingers to his temples as he tried to think back. He had only seen her for a moment at the bar and caught a glimpse of her back in the crowd a few times afterwards. Just as Deidara looked like he was going to lose interest entirely, Itachi remembered something.

"Oh and she had pink hair."

Deidara's feet slipped off his desk, nearly toppling him over. Itachi arched an eyebrow as he watched Deidara's smile slip straight off his face.

"You mean the cellist?" Deidara asked in a much quieter voice. Itachi's eyes widened. He had only heard her order a drink at the bar and he hadn't paid much attention to the orchestra playing during the party. But he remembered the elegant curl of her hands around her glass and he shrugged.

"Well she was the only pink-haired chick there that I know of… so…" Deidara surmised, trailing off with a thoughtful expression.

It was because of that look that Itachi was currently sitting in a small but tastefully-decorated lounge. He leaned back in the plush black seat as he cast a quick glance around the room. Deidara had scrawled the names of some bars along with a phone number that no one had answered when he had tried to call earlier. He had gone to two other places on the list before he had asked the owner about a pink-haired cellist and the man had simply indicated one of the open tables.

Itachi seriously considered going to work the next morning and murdering his childhood friend and boss when the first two acts that traipsed onto the stage were a man who clearly overestimated his ability to hit high notes and a woman who seemed to be on the verge of bursting into tears each time she sang a long note. Groaning, he let his head fall onto the table. He closed his eyes as he heard a polite scattering of applause before the owner stepped up to the mike and cleared his throat.

"Now our next act is someone you should all know by now. Our very own gem, please put your hands together for Sakura," he said. But there was no clapping. Instead, there was the tap of high heels traveling across the polished stage and the scrape of a chair. A few high-pitched plucks echoed before he heard a smooth, low note travel through the air. There was a heavy pause before a soft, wailing sound resounded in the bar that had fallen oddly silent. Even the regular squeak of the bartender polishing his glasses had stopped.

Like most children, Itachi had suffered through a few years of musical education in his youth. He had grudgingly taken up the piano. To his parents' delight, he found that he was rather good at it. But he had hated it, sitting in the same position and playing the same dull scales over and over again. That was the sound of music that had always filled his head.

The noise that filled the room seemed to rise from the cracks in the floorboards to stretch up to the ceiling. A full-bodied wail stretched, tightening to a tickling whisper. The short pauses when the bow lifted sounded like a bated breath in anticipation of what new notes would ensue. It was only after a full minute of being swept away in this torrent that he slowly lifted his head. She was wearing a black fedora tilted at an angle that shadowed most of her face. But the tip of her pink ponytail peeking out from underneath gave her away. She was wearing a simple blue blouse underneath her black blazer. The graceful sweeps of her right arm melded together into a hypnotic motion. The fingers of her left hand jumped lithely over the neck of her instrument in a wild tarantella.

Her song ended too quickly. When she stood to bow, the explosion of enthusiastic applause was expected. Grasping the neck of her cello with her left hand, she picked up her bow and quietly walked off the stage. Someone hurried on to clear away the folding chair and stand she had used. Itachi's eyes followed her as she ducked through a wooden door to the right of the stage. He suffered through three more mediocre acts before she emerged again. She still had her hat on as she headed directly to the bar. It was only then that Itachi gratefully stood and headed to the bar too.

She was seated gracefully, back straight and shoulders held back.

"Brilliant as always, doll. You're too good for this place, you know," the bartender chuckled as he handed her a lowball glass filled with amber liquid. The ice cubes inside clinked together when she reached her hands out. The bartender grinned as his fingers skimmed over hers. But she didn't seem to notice, easily tossing back the entire glass in one gulp. The twist of her mouth as she set the glass down betrayed the strength of the alcohol.

"What can I get you sir?" asked the bartender, turning to Itachi. Itachi wordlessly raised the tall glass he had been drinking from, asking for another.

"I agree with him. What's such a talented person doing in a bar like this?" Itachi inquired as he turned to the woman. She didn't respond, only tapped her index finger against her glass.

"Do you remember me? We spoke yesterday at-"

"Of course. I never forget a voice. You're the man who ordered two beers and had to pay with a hundred-dollar bill. You said you didn't have any smaller bills but I know you were trying to impress that woman you were with," she flatly said. Her voice was a little deeper than he had expected but still feminine. She finished her observation with a slight cluck of her tongue. When Itachi didn't bother to defend himself, she finally turned towards him.

"Can I help you? I don't remember asking for a drinking buddy," she huffed.

"You're an interesting person. I like to talk to interesting people. I'm sorry if that offends you," Itachi calmly replied. At this, she sighed. She plucked her hat off, running her fingers through her messy bangs. Her mouth twisted into a frown as she opened her eyes and looked straight at him. The milky haze of her green eyes startled him into silence. And even though she undoubtedly couldn't see him, her lips lifted into a smirk.

"I'm blind, mister. So get lost," she snapped, pushing her glass back towards the bartender. She downed another drink before she rapped her knuckles against the bar and stood.

"You coming back tomorrow, Sak?" the bartender asked as she pulled her hat on. Drumming her fingers against her thigh, she paused to think.

"No. I'll probably be here next Monday. I've got a gig tomorrow night," she replied. Then, inclining her head in Itachi's direction, she slipped back in through the door by the stage. A minute later, she emerged again, rolling a large red case across the floor. There was a lull between acts and a few of the customers in the bar lifted their heads to greet her.

Itachi lingered to have two more drinks while the bartender eyed him with a slightly unnerving grin.

"Can I help you?" Itachi grumbled after a while.

"Good luck, buddy," the bartender just grunted before he went off to tend to the next customer.

Itachi came back to the bar the next day and just like she had said, Sakura wasn't there. When he managed to corner the owner of the establishment, Itachi managed to get a full name and a working phone number of out him. These two things he slipped to Deidara during the work week. He trusted Deidara to come up with some sort of excuse for one of his lavish parties.

So the following Friday, Itachi stopped by the lounge after work and recognized a familiar pink head sitting at the bar. Her cello case was propped up next to her so she had already performed. When he settled on the stool next to her, he saw her head turn in his direction.

"Whiskey on the rocks," Itachi said when the bartender nodded at him.

"You must be lonely if you're always hanging around here," Sakura commented as she tapped her nail against the edge of the bar.

"You must miss me if you remember me so quickly," Itachi quipped back. He thought he saw the corner of her mouth pull up.

"Are you free tomorrow?" he asked before she could say anything else. She calmly tossed back the rest of her drink, grimacing as the fire burned down her throat.

"Nope. I have work to do," she cheerfully said. She paused to wave at the bartender and then lugged her cello out behind her.

So the next night, Itachi entered the hotel ballroom that Deidara had rented out for the affair. Normally, Itachi was a little put off by his friend's preference for the gaudy, but this time he was grateful for Deidara's ridiculously large trust fund. He glanced around the partly-filled room. He tried to appear casual but his stare was dragged to the stage again and again as he watched people in black suits and black dresses set up. This time, he made certain that Deidara got a good look at the pink-haired woman sitting on the edge of her folding chair.

"That's her alright. God she's pretty," Deidara sighed. Itachi turned around to fix him with a glare. But Deidara just held his hands up in a passive gesture.

"Hey I'm not going to interfere. She's nice to look at but she's not really the social type," Deidara said and Itachi scoffed.

"I know," he muttered, grabbing a drink off the tray of a passing waiter. Taking a deep gulp to warm his insides, Itachi casually made his way over to a group of his coworkers. Even as he conversed happily, laughing along with someone's joke, he kept one eye trained on the orchestra. From the way her hair fell into her face, it was impossible to see her cloudy eyes. Her fingers fluttered up and down the neck of her instrument quickly to match the rest of the quartet that had been hired along with her. Itachi caught the violinist looking away from his music stand to steal quick glances at Sakura. At the end of the piece, when everyone took a moment to change out their sheet music, the violinist leaned forward to say something to her. Sakura pulled her hair out of her face as she laughed. Like her fellow musicians, she was sticking to a strict dress code of black on black. But unlike the last time Itachi had seen her perform, she was wearing a black dress, something rather unusual for a cellist. The sleeveless garment had a modest necklines and hugged her waist before flaring out at her hips. It hit just above her knee, resting in soft folds across her thighs when she sat.

"You… look like some crazy creep, man," Deidara chuckled as he nudged Itachi with his elbow. Itachi ignored him, instead giving off an unapproachable air that kept most people away from him for the rest of the night.

Long after everyone else had gone home and when the staff was beginning their long clean-up, Itachi breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the orchestra begin to pack up. Sakura rubbed at her right shoulder as she stood. The violinist with his overly-eager smile took her by the elbow, guiding her past the bustling staff folding up tables and moving chairs.

"Yo, I'm grabbing a cab home. What about you?" Deidara asked, clapping Itachi on the shoulder a little too hard. Itachi managed to tear his eyes away from Sakura long enough to look over Deidara. It was clear from his pink cheeks and lopsided grin that his friend had perhaps had a little much to drink that night. A busty woman with long brown hair giggled as she clung to his arm.

"Take good care of him," Itachi said to the woman who smiled as she led Deidara off. When Itachi looked back toward the stage, he found that Sakura and the annoying violinist had disappeared. But as he watched, the violist and the other violinist grabbed their things and made their way into the lobby. Itachi quietly stole after them, watching as they disappeared through a door marked 'staff only'. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he settled in the luxurious hotel lounge to wait. A few minutes later, the door opened.

"Great job tonight. You sure you're not interested in joining us?" the violinist offered as he held the door open. Sakura wheeled her cello out behind her with one hand while the other held on to his forearm. Part of Itachi knew that she had to. She didn't know her way around the hotel so of course she would need someone to guide her. But that still didn't stop him from getting to his feet and striding across the lobby to them.

"No thanks. I don't do group acts. It was a pleasure meeting you all though," she replied with an easy smile that Itachi had never seen before.

"How are you getting home, Miss? Do you want us to flag a taxi for you?" the violist inquired as the group made their way to the exit.

"That won't be necessary. I'll be escorting Miss Sakura home," Itachi interrupted as he took Sakura's hand and pulled her away from the violinist who was still grinning stupidly. The musicians eyed Itachi with suspicion as Sakura let out a long sigh.

"Are you some sort of stalker? What are you doing here?" she demanded though she made no move to jerk free of his grasp.

"This was a party for my company. I'm the one that suggested that they hire you," Itachi calmly said. Her pink mouth puckered down in a scowl as she took in his words.

"I don't need your charity," she snapped.

"This isn't charity. This is me driving you home so I can sleep with a clear conscience," he sighed as he dragged her away from the group.

Sakura was oddly quiet as he loaded her cello in the trunk and helped her into a seat.

"Where to?" Itachi asked as he settled in the driver's seat. Folding her arms over her chest, she faced straight ahead. He watched her mouth thin out into a tight line.

"This is kidnapping," she finally said. Itachi sighed loudly.

"Just think of me as a chauffeur. Where do you live?" he insisted.

"Why? So you can stalk me? Let's stalk the blind woman. She won't notice," she muttered as she sunk lower into her seat. But after a moment of silence passed, she shifted. He could tell that silence made her uncomfortable. So he coughed.

"Fine. I live in that high-rise by the police station," she relented in a stiff voice.

"Would you like me to turn on the radio?" Itachi asked as he merged into incoming traffic.

"No. Talk. I'm still trying to figure out what kind of person you are," she said with the same tightly-controlled expression. He raised an eyebrow at her but decided to oblige.

"Alright then. What would you like to talk about?"

"Your job. Your family. Pets," she immediately listed. Still puzzled, he took a moment to think while he flicked the blinker and changed lanes.

"Well, I'm a data analyst at Bakudan Designs," he began. Sakura's posture relaxed a little.

"Data analyst?" she asked.

"I collect numbers, make reports. Sometimes I make presentations. I'm not really sure what my job is either," Itachi elaborated with a chuckle. As they drove into a tunnel, they were plunged into darkness before the orange lights flooded the concrete structure. Sakura's hand rested on the door as she felt the car rumbling forward.

"Family?" she prompted in a softer voice.

"Mother, father. My younger brother's probably around the same age as you. He just joined the police academy," Itachi told her. Sakura didn't interrupt so he went on.

"I don't have any pets. But I'm taking care of my cousin's cat while he's on vacation. So, did I pass the test?"

Another awkward silence hung between them for a while. Sakura tapped her fingernail against the window before she finally spoke.

"I don't know. Are you a bad person?" she asked.

"Hm… well, I don't think I'm a good person. I mean I use cheat codes in video games and sometimes I double-dip my fries. But I'm not probably not a bad person either," responded Itachi. He heard Sakura groan.

"Ugh. You're **so** a good person," she grumbled like a cross old man.

"Why do you make that sound like such an awful thing?" inquired Itachi as he took an exit off the highway. The car's blinker ticked again as he turned at a corner.

"Because that means I might like you," Sakura sighed. But before he could say anything, she sat up straight and pointed an accusatory finger in his general direction.

"But don't get arrogant! I bet you have some horrible fault! Like…like… I bet you have a giant mole. Or buck teeth. Or you're going bald."

"No, no and most certainly not."

"Lazy eye? Missing a limb?"

"Nope. Nope."

"Horrible acne, pigeon-toed? Do you have bad hemorrhoids?"

"No on all three counts and I don't think that's something you'd want to ask regardless of how cute you think you are."

"…."

"Fine. You're perfect. Now drive," she snarled with an emphatic sniff.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading. Be sure to leave more prompts or to voice your reaction in reviews!<p> 


	13. Doctor Uchiha

I'm almost sure that I'm not dead but I'm actually not too sure. Juggling work and writing is not going to be an easy task. So updates will continue to be infuriatingly slow and irregular. That being said, thank you to all my patient readers for sticking with this mess.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>Doctor Uchiha<span>

(suggested by Mistress Ayako)

White was the color she hated the most. It was cold and unforgiving and it always conjured up the biting sting of alcohol that burned the inside of her nose. From the moment she was born, silver and the harsh white of starched clothing was all she knew.

But that was alright. Because she had the color black.

Black was warm. Black was soft. Black smiled at her and paid attention to her.

Black was the color she loved and it loved her back.

* * *

><p>"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"<p>

Groggy and a little confused, she slowly opened her eyes. The muffled voice was unfamiliar to her and she didn't understand the noises he was making. Her eyes roved around the sterile laboratory and over the other tubes lining the walls. There were four others in total but one was too far away for her to ever see the person inside. The boy directly across from her lifted his hand in an excited wave. Bubbles erupted from his mouth as he tried to say something to her, undoubtedly forgetting, as always, that she couldn't hear him. Still, she liked him. He waved often and when the doctors left for the night, he would sometimes do silly little dances for her. The others were all quiet, probably still sleeping.

She finally found the source of the unexpected noise bent over the large console in the center of the room. He pressed a few of the blinking buttons and pushed the square keys with strange symbols on them. He was wearing one of the long coats that the other doctors always had on. She squinted at the white rectangle on his chest, even though she had no idea what the sticks and circles stacked together meant. He suddenly looked up and she got the chance to stare at his face.

He had very few lines on his skin. She guessed this meant that he hadn't lived as long as some of the doctors she had glimpsed passing through. A lot of the others had lines on their foreheads. He smiled and she saw even teeth that all matched up perfectly. She quickly decided that she liked that. As he walked up to her, she could see that he had very long eyelashes.

"You're up? I heard you usually sleep until 9, Miss Sleepyhead," he said. He was finally close enough for her to make out his voice. His finger trailed along the outside of the glass and she pushed hers against it too, miming his movements. His eyes widened.

Was that good or bad? It was probably bad. Each time someone's eyes grew big like that after reading something on a piece of paper or on the computer monitor usually meant a lot of rushing around. And then someone would always take a big, glinting needle and fill it with some liquid from one of the hundreds of bottles lining one of the walls while the lid of her tank would slide back. Whenever this happened, she always secretly hoped that the doctor would have to touch her. Then she would finally get to feel if someone else's hands were warm or cold. Hers were always cold. Instead, there would be a ruthless jab of the needle in the side of her neck while all the doctors looked relieved and patted each other on the back.

This man didn't move, even though he looked startled. Still, her eyes darted to the dreaded wall where all the glass bottles sat, glinting menacingly. He looked confused as he turned his head to try to figure out where she was looking. Shaking his head, he turned to look at her again.

"No. That's not why I'm here. I'm just here to measure your brain activity," he explained as he put his hand back on the glass. She stared at his long fingers for a long time before she looked down at her own hands. When she slowly put her clenched hand up, she carefully straightened each one until her fingers matched up with each of his. His hand was almost twice the size of hers. Her eyes drifted to his face and she saw that he was fixated on her own hand with an expression she had never seen before. It was like he was shocked but happy all at the same time.

"Alright, now I'm just going to have to take a blood sample for a few tests," he sighed as he lowered his hand. She cringed. She didn't know what the words 'blood' and 'sample' meant, but she always knew that together they meant that someone would be stabbing another needle in her arm and pulling out the strange liquid in her arm. It always hurt and she didn't like the idea of someone taking something out of her without her permission. He hesitated for a moment, forehead furrowing.

"Wait a second. Do you… understand me?" he demanded. She slowly nodded, not liking the way he looked surprised all over again. She pressed her palm to the side of her neck where she could feel the scar from all the times they had pierced her skin over and over again.

"How much do you understand? Do you know where you are?" inquired the man as he grabbed a notepad from one of the desks and began scrawling in it. When he looked back up at her, she shook her head just a little.

"Do you know why you're here?"

She shook her head again.

"Do you know who you are?"

At that, she didn't make any sort of motion. She didn't understand his question. When she didn't answer, he marked down something anyway. But his words irritated her for some reason. She didn't like being asked something she didn't understand. Pressing her lips together, she turned around in her glass tube and tucked her head against her shoulder so she wouldn't have to see him. A little while later, there was a prick on her right arm.

Even though it didn't hurt, she still didn't get to feel his hand.

* * *

><p>The girl to her right was weird. She wasn't really sure what 'weird' meant but she was quite certain that was what this girl was. Even though the doctors didn't bother her as often, she still always looked like she was in pain. When things got too quiet, she would bite herself, making a strange color seep out. She had round scars all over her arms and some parts of her legs.<p>

Even though she was weird, she was someone interesting. When the doctors would spend too much time jabbing and prodding at someone else, she would bang on the glass, blowing out big bubbles and showing her sharp teeth. That would always draw their attention, giving their latest victim some rest. It was impossible to tell whether she did that on purpose or not. But the people next to her always secretly hoped it was for them.

* * *

><p>He came back every day. She knew it was every day because she had learned that the big lights on the wall in some sort of weird pattern would change at some point. Then, the people who had left would come back and start working again.<p>

He was there before anyone else was. Sometimes she pretended that she didn't see him and closed her eyes. That usually worked for the other doctors. They would stop to look for a second before they went to do whatever else. But he always stopped right in front of her. He didn't tap the glass. She liked that he didn't tap the glass. He would just stand there, smiling, with his arms at his sides until she finally opened her eyes.

"Good morning, Miss Sleepyhead."

She didn't know why he always said that. She didn't understand why he was always talking about her head. Was he going to do tests on it? But he never did. After the first time he used a needle, he never once hurt her again. He just greeted her and then went around looking at all the blinking screens and lights and writing things down before everyone else arrived. And then, if he had time, he would sit down in front of her tube and just talk.

He asked how she was feeling. He told her what the weather was like, even though she didn't know what "sunny" and "windy" meant. Sometimes he would go around looking at the others but she was the only one that he ever spoke to. She didn't know whether she liked that or not.

The doctors walked around with a pile of thin sheets with more unidentifiable symbols taking up huge chunks of space. They would look at these clumps of mess and then nod or point to them to show to others. Sometimes they would look at the same things and begin arguing at each other, taking time to make strange gestures toward her while they shouted.

Only he was calm.

He never yelled.

In fact, when the other doctors came into the room, he barely spoke at all. He stayed close to her though. And sometimes he would sneak glances at her and smile even though she never understood why people smiled in the first place. The doctors seemed to like it when she did, though, so sometimes she would stretch her mouth in that strange way just to get them to stop poking and prodding for a while.

He started to notice that she liked looking at the strange shapes that everyone else seemed to understand. The first time he caught her was when he was standing with his back to her. She mashed her face against the glass as she tried to look at what he was seeing. He suddenly turned around, fast enough that she couldn't pretend that she had been doing something else. He slowly looked back and forth between the paper and her until he smiled in the soft way he only did when they were alone.

"You want to know what it says?" he asked. When she nodded, he took the sheet and pressed it to the glass so she could finally see the whole thing at once. There was a rectangular square in the middle that contained colored bars.

"This is a report on your neurological activity. We're measuring how much you think and what you think about," he explained. She ran her finger up and down, tracing the alien shapes and loops. Her mouth opened in perfect 'o' as she tapped the glass to get his attention. He put the paper down on his desk and then looked at her. She pointed at herself before she pointed at the lone sheet. She repeated this a few more times until his eyes widened.

"Read? You want to learn how to read?"

She stopped.

'Read?' she repeated unsurely, copying the motions of his mouth.

He picked up the sheet and pointed to the unknown symbols and then his eyes.

"Read," he agreed.

She stared carefully into his face for a moment before she nodded.

So he started sneaking in things, coming in a few minutes earlier each morning. He brought in what he called 'books'. Most of them had large pictures and only a few squiggles. He would make sounds, pointing to each section until she began to see that the symbols were all a little different. Charts pointing out each letter were on his clipboard, hidden under his work. Whenever the other doctors would look away, he would flip his work up and let her stare at the charts.

The books changed. They were thicker, had smaller print and fewer pictures. She learned words that had many different letters strung together. She liked reading the stories about princesses and fairies. The girls with their long, silky hair and beautiful dresses were always nice to think about. And she liked it when pictures of their clothes were included too.

"Dress," she said once, tapping on the glass to get his attention. It was really early. Or really late. She wasn't really sure. But everyone else was gone and he had found digital versions of books to be projected as a hologram onto the surface of the glass tube so she could read. She would drag her finger across the page and it would flip to the next one. He looked up from his work, rubbing at his eyes. Instead of standing, he pushed off the edge of his desk and sent his chair rolling across the floor.

"Sorry. What was that?" he said when he was close enough to read her lips clearly.

"Dress," she repeated, pointing at the image on the hologram.

"Do you want a dress like that?"

She nodded.

He was quiet for a long time. He put his hands together, staring at them for a long time before he spoke again.

"When you get out of there…. When you get out of there, I'll buy you as many dresses as you need."

Though she had always thought that this man didn't tell lies unlike the other doctors, she saw that he looked sad even as he smiled. And she somehow knew that this was the first time he was making a promise he couldn't keep.

* * *

><p>When she had moved on to devouring larger novels, she realized that she understood most of the words that flew past her. The blur of voices was now made of mumbled words strung together. They were big and complex but she could always ask <em>him<em> what they meant later.

"Seven is stable. Her brain activity is normal."

She wondered if she had misread his lips, if she had heard him wrong. The glass was thick. Maybe he had used another word. But just a little while later, another doctor looked right at her as he spoke.

"Seven has shown remarkable brain activity. Our regiment to delay the onset of puberty using synthetic anti-hormones has proved successful so far. Plans to freeze Seven in this stage of cellular development will proceed until further research is completed."

So she waited for all of them to leave again. She waited for the morning, when he would come back in and set up the holograms for her to read while he worked.

"Seven," she said when he was up against the glass, setting up the program. His hand froze when he saw her mouth moving.

"Seven. Am… Am I Seven?" she demanded. She watched his hand slowly fall to his side.

"Yes. That's your name. We call you Seven," he replied with a strangely downcast expression.

"….Seven. Then… then what's your name?" she asked, knocking to make sure he was looking at her to read her lips. At this, his mouth twitched into a smile.

"I'm Dr. Uchiha."

She liked his name more than she liked hers, she decided.

* * *

><p>A while after she met Dr. Uchiha, a while after she had moved on from reading Salinger to Tolstoy, she knocked on the glass again. She didn't have anything to say really. She just wanted to watch him walk up to her. It was fascinating how he would move his legs to propel himself forward. She looked down at her bare legs, at the liquid that bubbled up around her. She had caught a glimpse of a passing doctor's clipboard.<p>

The glass tank she was in was part of an experiment called the "Steel Mother Protocol". And the liquid she floated in was called "Womb-Sys". There were tubes in her arms and legs that filtered toxins out of her bloodstream and inserted nutrients. The idea of "eating" that she had read of in books was unfamiliar to her. The short glimpses of complex papers she caught over the shoulders of inattentive doctors had allowed her to glean enough information to figure out that most other people weren't grown in a lab like she was. She couldn't decide how that made her feel.

The more information she devoured, the more she began to grow greedy. She wanted to eat cake, she wanted to walk, and she wanted pretty dresses. She wanted to see what the sun looked like. She wanted to smell the grass after it was cut just to see if it smelled as good as every single book claimed it did.

One morning, as Dr. Uchiha stood organizing papers by his desk, she smacked her open palm down on the glass. He started, head jerking up to look at her.

"I want to go outside," she mouthed, pointing at the hologram. He walked up to her to look. It was a page from an encyclopedia about plants and animals. There were deer and squirrels and large trees stretching up to the heavens with their glossy leaves. The book had tried to teach her about color too but she couldn't tell the difference. The liquid surrounding her made it impossible to tell if anything had a real color or not. She wanted to touch a tree, to see if the bark was really as rough as it looked.

"Outside," she repeated as she watched Dr. Uchiha look back and forth between her and the hologram.

"I'm sorry, Seven. But you can't. Your muscles aren't prepared to support you and you have no immune system. You would die-"

"No!" she interrupted, hitting the glass again. Her eyes stung as she hit the glass again and again until her palms started to hurt. She screamed, watching with some satisfaction as bubbles erupted from her mouth. She struck the glass one more time before she turned her back to him, curling into a small ball so she wouldn't have to look at him.

She didn't talk to him for the rest of the day.

"Seven doesn't seem to be so cheerful today. I wonder if she's ill," one of the doctors commented, tapping on the glass. She whirled around, baring her teeth and slapping her hands down on the glass over and over. Even when her hands grew sore, she didn't stop, yelling soundlessly and making the ugliest faces she could manage.

"Someone open the tank. We need to sedate her! Hurry!" one person barked. She paused for a moment as she heard the familiar whir of the motor that opened up the metal door at the top of the tank. Before the gloved hand holding the syringe could push her down, she frantically clawed her way to the top. When her head broke the surface of the liquid, a billion shrill noises pierced her ears. Alarms wailed, lights flashed angrily, frantically. The monitors set up beside her tank began blinking and beeping. She tried to get a grip on the edge of the tank when her fingers were slick with viscous Womb-Sys.

"I want to go outside!" she shrieked, startling herself with the sound of her own voice. She had never had a chance to hear herself before. But the stunned expressions of the doctors scattered around the room probably conveyed the most shock. Even the one holding a syringe filled with sedative was frozen, hand hovering uselessly midair.

"I want to go outside," she repeated in a calmer tone. Her eyes roved around the room. Everything looked different. The same filtered shade she had seen everything through was gone. Now she could see that skin was a different color from clothing and floors and walls. She easily found Dr. Uchiha standing at the entrance, a cup held in his free hand. Steam rose off it in soft wisps as he gaped at her.

"She can speak," someone murmured. A ripple of hushed voices rose and fell.

"Dr. Uchiha, what is the meaning of this? You were assigned to Seven to measure her mental development and nothing more!" one of the older doctors barked as he whirled around to glare.

"I want to walk! I want to see the sun! Let me out!" she shouted, banging her fists against the glass, reclaiming all attention.

"What are you doing? Hurry up and sedate her!"

Before she could move, the doctor closest to her plunged a needle into the soft skin of her wrist. A strangled "no" drifted out of her mouth before her limbs turned to jelly. A few hands pushed her back into the tank. When her head plunged back into the confines of her liquid prison, the shrill noises from outside grew muffled. Color disappeared again; it was drained away by the same oppressive shade she had seen her whole life. Dr. Uchiha approached her tank, his eyes wide with some emotion she couldn't yet understand.

"Seven, what's gotten into you?" he asked.

She glared at him before she tucked her head under her arm and turned her back to him.

* * *

><p>She finally understood the girl to her right. She finally knew why she would bite herself and rip at her hair while screaming. It wasn't because she wanted anything in particular. The glass walls were driving her insane, offering a view of the world outside but not permitting entrance. In there, there was no smell, little sound. There was no taste and there was no warmth.<p>

Everything was maintained at 'optimal temperatures to sustain life'.

For the first time in her life, she wasn't satisfied with looking. She wasn't satisfied with reading and seeing pictures of places far away.

So she yanked out her feeding tubes, scratched at her hands and arms. She snarled whenever anyone tried to sedate her and she even bit one of the more daring doctors who had tried to put his whole hand into the tank.

They sent Dr. Uchiha to talk to her, to try to convince her to calm down. She wouldn't look at him. Even when he promised to find a way to let her out, she refused, curling into a tight ball and covering her ears.

Finally, one day, early in the morning before even Dr. Uchiha arrived, a group of doctors shuffled into the room. Still half-sleeping, she didn't put up much of a fight when they began methodically removing all the lines from her skin. She was vaguely aware of the liquid draining. It grew shallower and shallower until she couldn't stay floating anymore. It didn't matter since there were hands holding her up by the arms. The rubbery texture of their gloved fingers felt unpleasant but she was too tired to struggle. Days of throwing herself against the glass had left her bruised and days of yanking out her feeding tubes had left her famished.

"What's going on here?"

Dr. Uchiha's voice was so clear. She heard it for the first time without it sounding muffled and warped. Despite her exhaustion, she mustered the energy to open her eyes and look at him. As he took big strides across the lab, the other doctors all muttered to each other before they hoisted her up into the air. There was a long metal table waiting for her. When they lowered her onto it, the shocking cold made her wince and squirm.

They didn't seem to notice.

"Transfer her to lab 7. We'll have to build up her immune system before anything else," someone barked. The wheels on the table made a horrible rattling noise as she was pushed along toward the doors. Just as she passed Dr. Uchiha, she reached out, just barely managing to grasp the edge of his white lab coat before the fabric slipped through her fingers.

He looked so incredibly sad and she didn't understand why.

* * *

><p>She only saw him once more after that.<p>

Weeks of electric stimulation to build up her muscles finally paid off when she found herself able to walk rather shakily around the small room she had been assigned to. Slowly, the distance she could move around increased until her legs grew as strong as confident as all the others striding along around her. As long as she asked permission, she was allowed to wander around the lab, watching the doctors' work and even visiting those still left floating in their tubes filled with green life-giving liquid. The boy who had once been across from her had been so shocked to see her. He had worried that she was gone forever, much like the girl who had once been to her right. One night she had gone completely still in her tube and in the morning, it was empty. She liked visiting the boy. He had a nice smile so she read to him out of the easier books she had held on to.

She asked for new books. Each text, thicker than the last, was devoured until she had begun to read even the thick medical texts scattered around in the labs.

They let her walk around the garden in the back as long as someone came with her. She touched flowers, dug her toes into the bare grass and soft earth. The crumbling dirt that found itself underneath her nails was fascinating, even though the doctors always scolded her for getting dirty. The sky changed colors, she learned. And sometimes water even fell from it. She liked those days the best because the sound of the rain drumming against the roof was like music.

They stopped giving her injections every day and she felt her body changing. Her silhouette was no longer stick-straight. The forming curves of her hips and chest bewildered and even scared her but that wasn't the most alarming part of her transformation. Hair sprouted up in strange places, alarming her enough to make her think that she might be turning into one of the furry creatures she had read about in one of her books. But eventually one of the doctors assured her that she was not turning into a dog or a cat and she learned not to stress about it too much.

Someone delivered dresses to her one morning, lacy ones with pretty pink ribbons that matched with her hair color. Though she pretended not to know who they were from, she secretly hugged them close to her chest, rubbing her cheek over the soft fabric before stowing them away in the back of her closet, never to be touched again.

One day, she realized, as one of the nurses sat patiently brushing her hair for her, a strange thought hit her, one she had never had before.

"Shizune?"

"Hm?" the young woman hummed in reply. Her hands were gentle even when working out the worst knots.

"I don't like being called Seven. Seven's a number, not a name," she said in a soft voice. Shizune put down the brush.

"Then what do you want to be called?"

There was a long pause. She had never given it much thought before. Her eyes roved over her bookshelf, over the paintings of different flowers and animals that decorated the blindingly white walls. She found a photograph of the cherry tree in the garden that she had asked someone to take for her the previous year. The delicate shades of the blooming cherry blossoms were so elegant and pure. Shizune seemed to understand once she noticed the photo too.

"Then how about Sakura? Sakura's a pretty name and it suits you," Shizune suggested as she separated damp hair into sections to braid together.

"Sakura… I… I can have that name?" she hesitantly asked, twisting around to look at the kind nurse.

"Of course you can, dear. Let me go get lunch. We'll eat together," Shizune replied with her usual smile. After Shizune patted her reassuringly on the head, she slipped out of the room, her shoes tapping quietly against the tiled floor.

And the girl, staring blankly into the mirror, barely noticed when the doors slid open again. It was too soon for it to be Shizune. It would take her at least 10 minutes to walk down to the cafeteria and pick up food before coming back. The heavy echo of the foot on the floor didn't sound right.

"Seven."

She closed her eyes, tensing her muscles to resist the absurdly strong urge to look at him. They told her it had been nearly three years since she had been 'born'. During that time, she had not seen Dr. Uchiha around the facility once. Everyone said that he had transferred to another lab or pretended not to recognize the name at all. They mistook her innocence for stupidity.

"Seven…It's been a while," Dr. Uchiha said in his usual, warm voice. He sounded tired.

Had he grown older too? Would his face be lined like all the other doctors with their snowy white hair? Or would he look the same? Would his hair be longer? What would he be wearing?

Pushing aside all these questions, she kept her back straight.

"You abandoned me," she finally said in a quiet voice.

The soft noise of their breathing was all that answered her.

"I'm sorry," he replied after a long time. The click of his shoes drew closer. She could smell cologne and rubbing alcohol on him.

"But you sent me the dresses," she added. He laughed but it didn't sound happy. It was almost a regretful sound. It was like he was trying to apologize with his laugh. She didn't like that. So despite her firm resolution not to, she opened her eyes and turned to look at him.

"They were pretty," she admitted as she peered up into his face. Maybe it was because he was standing and she was sitting but he looked a lot taller than she remembered. His hair was the same, shiny and dark and pulled back in a ponytail. He wasn't all wrinkled and shriveled but there were shadows under his eyes, like he hadn't been able to sleep properly in a while. Instead of the lab coat she had always seen him in, he was wearing a dark sweater and jeans. He looked bigger but smaller, happier but sadder.

"Seven-"

"Are you going to go away again, Dr. Uchiha?" she interrupted with a question. Dr. Uchiha pressed his lips together before he nodded minutely. Even though he didn't say so, she knew he was feeling sad. She could tell from the way he looked at her feet instead of at her. So she reached out and lightly touched his palm.

He had warm hands.

"Why do you have to go?" she inquired in a tiny voice. A deep sigh left the doctor as he knelt in front of her, clasping her hands in his. From this close up, she could finally see that his eyes were so dark that they could probably be called black. He had long eyelashes that cupped his cheeks whenever he blinked.

"I'm sorry, Seven," he just said. She pulled one of her hands free to poke the wrinkle between his eyebrows. With some satisfaction, she watched it smooth out under her fingertip. The doctor's eyes widened but he didn't stop her.

"I won't be seeing you again," she guessed with a sad smile of her own. She waited. And even though she already knew the answer, his nod wasn't any less painful to watch. He stared at her, like he was trying to memorize her face. He was so focused on looking at her that he didn't realize she was leaning in until their lips touched. It was barely a brush, just enough to feel the warmth of his mouth against hers. Then she drew back, blushing as she pressed her fingers against her bashful smile.

"Sorry, Dr. Uchiha," she giggled. His gaze drifted down to her mouth.

"Don't be sorry, Seven," replied the doctor as he stood, brushing off his pants. But she grasped the front of his sweater.

"Not Seven. My name is Sakura," she corrected him. And for the first time in a long time, she finally saw him smile again. He didn't look sad. He didn't look sorry. He was just smiling. He smoothed back a lock of her hair, letting his fingers touch the edge of her ear and brush against the side of her throat before he drew his hand back.

"Sakura," he repeated, slowly and carefully.

"Dr. Uchiha."

"Did you get to walk, Sakura? Did you get to see the sun?" Dr. Uchiha asked. As he spoke, the doors slid open and Shizune stepped into the room with a tray in her hands. She froze for a moment before she quietly set the tray down and left the room without saying anything. But the two barely noticed her.

"I did. The sun's beautiful, Dr. Uchiha. And grass is soft and it smells so good after it rains," she replied, smiling as hard as she could even though her eyes began to sting. Her lower lip began to tremble when the doctor smiled back.

"That's good. Are you happy, Sakura?"

She reached out, grasping his fingers and squeezing them so he wouldn't be able to pull away. Gritting her teeth to hold back a sob, she furiously nodded her head. He pressed his forehead against hers for a moment, his eyes squeezing shut. But then he was pulling away. Even though she used all her strength to hold on, he easily slipped out of her grasp.

"Goodbye, Dr. Uchiha," she whispered as she watched him disappear through the sliding doors.

* * *

><p>Someone please demand a happy oneshot from me. I'm sick of writing about unhappy endings.<p> 


	14. Midnight

I don't even know. I'm sorry. I've had too much coffee... or not enough coffee...

* * *

><p><span>Midnight<span>

(suggested by Principessa Luna Fiorella)

Walking home after a grueling 20-hour shift that ended at precisely 12:00 am, Haruno Sakura was met with two things.

The first was a homeless man hunched over something in the dark (probably an overturned trashcan). He made loud sucking and crunching noises that she could hear even from a good distance away.

The second was another man standing further down the walking path, facing the homeless man. This one did not look homeless and he was carrying a sword.

So Sakura swore and dug in her purse for her pepper spray (because pepper spray is the best shield against a pointy metal weapon). She flinched when the homeless man abruptly dropped his meal and spun around to look at her. He let out a hiss, revealing a mouth and teeth covered in what she dearly hoped was tomato sauce. Trying to remember all the stupid posters warning about what to do when assaulted at night, she let out a high-pitched scream and ran like hell.

And then the crazy bastard with the sword came sprinting after too and she would have laughed at what a ridiculous-looking conga line they made if she hadn't been about to sob from sheer terror.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME? IT'S LIKE MIDNIGHT! WHY ARE YOU COSPLAYING IN THE PARK?" Sakura wailed as she turned a sharp corner. But the homeless man and the sword-wielding psycho followed after her with impossible speed. With a string of foul words that would have made a trucker blush, she kicked off her high-heeled shoes and stumbled across the cold, wet pavement.

When she felt grubby, clawed hands close around her throat, she managed to let out a strangled gurgle of a shout. And then there was a sickening ripping noise and a hot gush of something splattering against her back. She barely had time to register the smell of metal and bile in the air before the crazy sword-man grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her through winding streets before shoving her into the passenger seat of some car.

'I'm being kidnapped. I'm being kidnapped and my stupid shoes are lying in the street and he's going to take me back to his creeper-cave to rape me,' she thought as she watched him climb into the driver's seat. He threw his sword rather carelessly into the back and she was about a billion percent sure that there was blood on the blade. Staring straight ahead, she gripped the canister of pepper spray she had dug out from the bottom of her handbag.

"I just hope you know that I haven't shaved my legs so you're not in for a very fun night," she sniffed, trying to stop her voice from trembling. That was a lie, of course. She was too nitpicky to ever go a day without grooming herself perfectly. She had just gotten a pedicure the day before so her calves and thighs were perfectly exfoliated and moisturized.

'Oh why did I ask for that stupid green tea scrub? And I'm wearing my sexy underwear today. But I couldn't help it. It's laundry day and it was these stupid things or going commando.' So she agonized and squirmed and occasionally stole glances at the man driving his stupid Italian sports car and tried her best not to start sobbing about her stupid pet goldfish that had died when she was six. She had taken it out of the bowl but she had quickly thrown it back in when her mom came home and it had always weighed down her conscious even though her mom probably didn't even remember it by now.

'So this is justice for a fish killer. I killed Blubber so now I'm going to be raped and then probably murdered by this weirdo. I bet he has a weird fetish. I bet he's into feet or armpits. I bet he secretly cries once he's done. Oh no. I bet he's one of those sickos that films this stuff and watches it later.'

"Where do you live?"

Sakura's horrible fantasy of being escorted to some dungeon-like lair was quickly interrupted by his voice. She had expected his voice to sound gravelly and rough (a generic rapist voice, if you will). Instead, his words were smooth and almost aristocratic. She didn't really focus on that too much however.

She was torn. Did she make up some address and potentially die or did she tell him the truth and potentially die in her own home? After a few seconds of deliberation, she decided that she would rather at least get a chance to check her mailbox before being slaughtered horribly. So she stuttered out the address and went back to agonizing over her potential fate. By the time he pulled up to her modest condo towards the edge of the city, she had worked herself into such a nervous frenzy that him reaching over to shift the gear into park made her jump.

They lingered in awkward silence.

"Um…. So… I don't have any handcuffs or blindfolds or whips or whatever you're into," she finally said.

"What," he flatly said, turning his head to look at her. It was so dark in the car that it was hard to tell what he looked like. And the collar of his coat was turned up, hiding his mouth. He could have had buck teeth and an eye patch and she wouldn't have known.

"Chiyo-sama said you were strange but- We need to get inside. I have a lot to tell you," he sighed as he climbed out of the car. When he looped around to open the door, Sakura frowned.

"Wait. You know my granny?" she demanded. Why would this sword-swinging weirdo have anything to do with sweet, good-tempered Chiyo? The idea of her in one of her pastel-toned cardigans drinking coffee with this potential rapist made her laugh a little.

"You know what? I don't even care anymore," Sakura snorted as she stood and shoved him out of her way as she stalked up to her front door. After a little digging, she found her keys and managed to get the door unlocked. But then the creep was shoving her inside, lingering in the doorway to stare out into the darkness.

"You're not hurt?" he demanded over his shoulder.

"Um…. No? You know, you must be new to this. I don't think this is typical rapist protocol. Aren't you supposed to, you know, drug me or at least tie my hands and feet up?" Sakura asked as she took a few steps away from him.

"Rapist protocol," he slowly repeated.

Sakura nodded.

"I save your life and that is the conclusion you come to? That I'm a rapist?" he asked.

"I'm not the one wearing all black while running around in parks while carrying a sword," Sakura pointed out. There was a lengthy pause. And then he let out a harried sigh.

"I guess this is partly my fault for not explaining sooner. My name is Uchiha Itachi and I've been hired by your grandmother to be your bodyguard," he said with a little bow. Sakura stared at him even longer. She blinked slowly, wondering if maybe he was just some hallucination brought on by sleep-deprivation. But he was definitely standing in front of her.

"Granny Chiyo hired a rapist to be my bodyguard?"

"Don't say rapist again, please," he sighed.

"Rapist," she promptly said.

Itachi stared at her for a long time. Then, he continued speaking like he hadn't heard her at all.

"So, according to your grandmother's wishes, I will be staying with you and escorting you to and from work," he informed her.

"No way. Thanks for the ride home," Sakura flatly replied as she slowly inched over to the wall to grab one of the frying pans hanging there.

"Why not? I was told that you have a guest room and I'm not going to be a financial burden on you in any way," he pointed out, grabbing onto her arm just as she managed to grasp the handle of her heaviest cast iron skillet.

"Because you're a creepy stranger with a sword that just probably killed a homeless man," Sakura retorted. Itachi glanced down at the sword held in his other hand and then arched an eyebrow at her.

"He was an escaped patient from a local mental institution. He had a long history of cannibalism. He was eating someone's pet poodle when you found him," Itachi slowly said, enunciating each word as if she wouldn't be able to understand him otherwise.

Haruno Sakura wanted to rip her hair out.

She was exhausted now that all the adrenaline was wearing off. Her feet hurt from where there were probably pebbles jammed into the skin, her hair was a mess, her makeup was running all over her face and there was probably cannibal blood all over the back of her shirt and pants. But she had a feeling that this person would refuse to let her go until she humored him. So, rolling her eyes, she shrugged.

"Fine. You can stay for tonight. I suppose being with a rapist is better than being with a cannibal. But I'm going to call Granny in the morning to sort this out," Sakura relented.

So she let him follow her into her home.

Sakura turned around as she watched him walk through the white door with stained glass windows. She was glad that it was so late. Undoubtedly, her neighbors spotting this person wearing a black trench coat and carrying a bloody sword would have raised a couple thousand neighborhood alerts. The homeowners' society would be chasing after him with torches.

"What? Don't you have a bag or something?" she demanded when she saw that he was empty-handed. He just put his hands in his pockets.

"I've learned to travel light," he responded.

"Oh right. Rapist creeper," Sakura muttered mostly under her breath. She stopped in the hallway to point out a door at the very end.

"That's the bathroom. The one to the right is the guest room," she said.

"And your room?" Itachi prompted, earning a glare.

"Well, Mr. Eager Rapist, my room is right across the hall from yours. But be warned. I played lacrosse in high school so I will kill you if you so much as set a foot in there," Sakura growled out. With that, she ripped herself free from his grasp. Still wielding the frying pan, she slowly backed down the hall, never taking her eyes off him. When she finally made it to her room, she darted inside, quickly locking the door behind her.

She ended up sleeping with her back up against the door, frying pan lying in her lap. She suddenly jolted awake around 3 am. Rubbing at her neck which was stiff from lolling against her shoulder, Sakura slowly got to her feet. Her shirt was stuck to her back and her feet were still dirty and achy. But the idea of taking a shower while a strange man was in her house was less than appealing at the moment. Pressing her ear to the door, she listened for movement. She brushed the curtains aside to confirm that Itachi's car was still parked in her driveway before she carefully twisted the lock on her door. Inch by inch, she nudged the door open, cringing each time the hinges let out a high-pitched squeak. Sakura stuck her head in the hallway, looking around to make sure that her strange and mostly unwelcome guest wasn't lurking in the darkness. Taking a deep breath, she tip-toed down the hall, pausing every few steps to listen.

"Is something the matter?"

Letting out a shriek, she swung her frying pan through the air in the general direction of the voice.

There was a loud clang and then a heavy thud.

Gasping for breath, Sakura fumbled around until she found the light switch and flicked it on. Itachi was sprawled on the floor, one hand pressed to the side of his head. She stared dumbly at him as red slowly trickled out between his fingers.

"I think your grandmother's mistaken. Clearly, you are in no need of protection. I think it's the rest of the world that requires protection from you," Itachi grumbled a few minutes later as Sakura dabbed at his wound with an alcohol-soaked cotton pad. Clenching her jaw, she pressed particularly hard, earning a strangled grunt from her victim.

"You know, it's not a good idea to antagonize the person treating you, asshole," Sakura sniffed as she stood to toss the wipe into the garbage can. Itachi was perched on one of the stools lined up against the island in the middle of the kitchen. Sakura rummaged around her first aid kit for antibiotic ointment, ignoring the hard sizzle of his frown against the side of her face.

"I'm not going to apologize. You're creepy and you scared the shit out of me," she suddenly said, turning around to fix him with a glare of her own.

"This may be the concussion talking but you might just be the most frightening woman alive. So I don't see how **I** scared **you**," Itachi snapped back.

"**I'm** frightening? I'm not the one snatching a woman from a public park and then sleeping in her house!" she sneered even as she leaned over to apply the ointment to his temple.

"Snatching? Are you ignoring the fact that I was saving your life? Or did you hit yourself in the head with that frying pan too?" Itachi rebutted. Scowling fiercely, she ripped a bandage from its sterile packaging and smacked it against his head just to make sure it would hurt.

"Shut up and go to sleep. If you'll excuse me, I'm off to wash hobo blood off my favorite shirt," Sakura sniffed as she picked up the metal first-aid case and hopped off the stool. She tucked the box back into place in one of the kitchen cabinets before she made her way to the bathroom and locked the door securely behind herself. She indulged herself in a long, hot shower, scrubbing extra hard to make sure her back was completely clean. She averted her eyes from the pink water swirling down the drain. Once she was satisfied that she smelled like sweet mango shampoo and not blood, she shut off the shower head and wrapped up in a soft white robe. She picked up her light blue blouse stained rusty-red, debating whether or not to try to salvage it.

"I might as well try," she sighed as she dropped her undergarments into the laundry basket and then wadded up the rest of her clothes into a ball. She slipped out of the bathroom and headed to the kitchen. As she filled up the sink with lukewarm water, she heard the padding of bare feet on the floor.

"What?" Sakura demanded, not turning away from the lemon she was cutting in half. She squeezed both halves over her clothes, not really paying attention to her guest until she felt cold hands on her right calf. Sakura yelped, her leg automatically lashing out to kick him away. But he firmly grasped her ankle, leaving her to wobble awkwardly on her left foot.

"Let go of me, you pervert," she growled, horribly self-conscious of the fact that she was wearing absolutely nothing underneath her robe.

"So that's why you were limping," Itachi remarked. Before she could protest, he stood, shoved her into the stool he had previously been occupying, and began bustling around the kitchen like some kind of strange housewife. Sakura followed his movements, still holding onto the squished lemon halves.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she watched him fill a plastic tub with water. He didn't reply as he set the tub down near her feet before retrieving the first-aid kit from where she had put it away.

"How do you expect to work tomorrow? Aren't doctors on their feet all day?" Itachi inquired, completely disregarding her query.

"I'll be fine. Besides, I have tomorrow off," she muttered mostly to herself. Ignoring her response, Itachi picked up both her feet and dunked them into the basin. He disappeared for a moment and then reappeared with a bar of soap from the bathroom. Sakura was so shocked that she didn't stop him from diligently washing her feet. His fingers were calloused and rough but gentle. He was careful not to press against the pebbles lodged into the soles of her feet. When he was done, he dried her feet off with a towel.

"You know, if the whole creeper-rapist-bodyguard gig doesn't work out, you should work at a nail salon giving pedicures," Sakura remarked as she watched him sit in the stool next to her.

"Thank you," he said dryly before he grasped her right calf and pulled, lifting her foot into his lap. Sakura tried her best not to blush as she pressed her hands onto the hem of her robe to make sure that she didn't accidentally flash him. But Itachi didn't seem to notice as he began examining the damage to her foot.

"What possessed you to take off your shoes while running for your life?" he asked with something that sounded almost like a laugh. Sakura glowered at him.

"Hey. Why don't you try running with 3-inch heels and let me know how it goes?" Sakura retorted.

"3-inch heels? That's highly impractical," Itachi observed.

"Well I'm impractically short," she responded.

"You're… I'd say you're about 5' 4", 5' 5". That's not short. I think you're above the national average height for women," Itachi said without even a snicker. She hesitated to throw out another snippy comeback. Was he trying to comfort her? But before she could explore the possibility, he grabbed a pair of tweezers and began the arduous process of plucking out each piece of gravel and stone wedged into the tender skin of her feet. She gritted her teeth, determined not to make any weird noises when she was already in a rather compromising position.

"This looks painful. Why didn't you say something earlier?" Itachi asked as he switched to her other foot. Sakura snorted. It was such an unladylike noise that Itachi actually stopped his work to look up at her.

"I bashed you in the head with a frying pan and you think a little boo-boo to the feet hurts?" Sakura laughed.

"…You're right. You have a deadly swing. Are you sure you didn't play tennis and not lacrosse?" he said with a quiet chuckle. She had done both, actually, but she wasn't about to spill out her life story during such a weird situation. Instead, Sakura stared at him while he worked. Now that she wasn't just regarding him as some sort of psychotic killer (he had moved up on her list to 'potential non-rapist' in her mind), she found that he wasn't actually unattractive. Of course, she would never admit this out loud.

"So my grandma seriously hired you?" Sakura suddenly asked. She squirmed when he grabbed hold of a particularly large piece of gravel that stubbornly refused to move. Her toes curled as he tried to yank the particle out.

"Yes she did. She explained that her beautiful, vulnerable granddaughter was living in the big city all by herself. She wanted us to keep you safe from 'ruffians, hooligans and sexual predators'. She failed to mention that said young woman had a monster swing," Itachi replied as he finally managed to twist the piece free. Tears sprang up in Sakura's eyes that she hurriedly rubbed away against her shoulder before he could see.

"Sorry. That must've hurt," Itachi said without looking up from her foot.

"Just hurry up, you sicko. I bet you have a foot fetish or something," she muttered. He didn't rise to her bait. Instead, he ran his thumbs over her skin, making sure that he hadn't missed anything. Sakura tried not to yank her foot away even as a giggle threatened to escape past her pursed lips. He switched back to her other foot to do the same inspection.

"A foot fetish? Sorry to disappoint you but that's not quite my cup of tea," Itachi replied, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Then what is?" she prompted.

"Earl Grey. Occasionally some Darjeeling," he said. She tried not to smile. Itachi covered the bottoms of her feet with antibiotic ointment before wrapping them in linen bandages. When he was finished, she looked like she had leprosy or some other flesh-eating disease. And when she voiced this observation, he stared at her.

"Why not say you look like a mummy? Why does it need to be leprosy?" he sighed, shaking his head.

"Don't be an asshole. We're in the kitchen. There are tons of frying pans all around you," Sakura pointed out as she slid her foot off his lap.

"…But thanks," she added in a few seconds later. When Itachi simply nodded, she sat awkwardly with her hands still in her lap to hold down the edge of her robe.

"Well…. I guess I'd better get some rest," Sakura lamely said while she slid off the stool. She hurried back to her room, locking the door behind her again. It was only when she climbed into bed and pulled the covers over herself that she realized that she had left the frying pan in the hallway.

* * *

><p>"Really, Granny? A bodyguard with a sword?" Sakura groaned into the phone. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs back and forth. As she waited for her grandmother to respond, she took a bite out of the bagel she had slathered generously with cream cheese.<p>

"Well, dear, these are dangerous times. And I've been hearing al about those murders and rapes in your area on the news," Chiyo replied. Sakura looked up when Itachi walked into the kitchen. She waved vaguely in the direction of the coffee maker and toaster before she heard Chiyo's cackle.

"I ran a background check, dear. He's as sane as you are," Chiyo assured her. Looking down at her third cup of coffee that morning, Sakura snorted. The dark dregs gathered at the bottom almost looked like a butterfly if the butterfly were severely mashed and missing part of one wing.

"Then he must be pretty crazy too. I hit him with a frying pan last night," she mumbled, making her grandmother laugh again.

"I've got to go, sweetie. Call me if you need anything," Chiyo said before her side of the line went quiet. Sighing deeply, Sakura snapped her phone shut and stuffed the rest of her bagel into her mouth. She chewed grumpily as she watched Itachi pour himself a cup of coffee. He looked around the kitchen once before he spotted the sugar bowl sitting on the counter next to her leg.

"Did you sleep well?" Itachi asked. Sakura shrugged, watching him drop one, two, three….four…._five_-

The man drank his coffee with five sugars.

Sakura gaped, slightly horrified but mostly curious as to whether the magical brew would still even remotely resemble coffee. A gasp left her when Itachi took a sip with a completely straight face.

"Terrible," she muttered as she took a big gulp of her coffee with a perfectly respectable splash of skim milk and just one cube of sugar.

"So….Granny gave me a complete description of you. I guess you're not some sort of crazy rapist. You're just a crazy guy with a sword," Sakura announced.

"Your high opinion of me is touching," he remarked as he crossed the kitchen to grab a bagel. While he ate, Sakura dropped her empty mug in the sink and peered out the window looking out onto the street. The sky was a dreary shade of grey that sometimes made it hard to remember that there was such a thing as the sun. Sulking a little bit, she let the curtain fall back into place.

"How's your head?" she asked, remembering why he still had a bandage on the left side of his forehead. His dark bangs fell over it, almost concealing it but not quite.

"I have somewhat of a headache but it's nothing unmanageable. Your feet?" Itachi gestured to her bandaged feet with his coffee cup.

"Peachy," she growled in response.

They stared at each other, Sakura struggling to keep the same gruff look of irritation on her face. Very slowly, Itachi's eyebrow arched.

"….Peachy," Itachi repeated.

She couldn't explain why that one word made her giggle. But just a tiny noise slipped past her pursed lips and then she was exploding into uncontrollable laughter. Clutching her belly, she leaned back against the counter to keep herself upright. When she looked up, she found that Itachi was smiling as he lifted his mug to his lips to drink.

And with that bout of loud laughing, the awkwardness between them just decided to slowly slink away. By lunchtime, they were sitting together at the kitchen table, quietly chowing down on the spaghetti Sakura had managed to throw together after checking up on Itachi's wound again and rummaging a few clothes out of the back of her closet that looked like they might fit him. When she had handed them to her guest, he had held them up with a skeptical expression.

"Your lover's?" he queried.

"Mine. Men's clothes are comfortable," she firmly replied, rolling her eyes at him. So she let him wash up and change into the grey long-sleeved shirt and boxers she normally wore while lying around the house on one of her rare days off. Matched with his tight black jeans, the clothes helped make him seem like less of a serial killer and more like one of the normal people living in this relatively good neighborhood.

"I need to go grocery shopping. Do you want to come along?" Sakura called from the kitchen when she heard the bathroom door creak open. There was a moment of quiet and then Itachi walked over while drying his dark hair with a towel. By some miracle, the shirt fit him quite well, defining his muscles and making her cheeks grow a little warm. But she was an adult, damn it. So Sakura tore her eyes from the sight of his delicious biceps and instead turned away to look inside her mostly empty refrigerator again. A yelp escaped her when she closed the door and found Itachi standing much closer to her than she had expected.

"Would you prefer to take your car or should I drive?" he asked. Sakura scoffed.

"I'm fresh out of medical school. Do you think I have a car?" she retorted as she brushed past him to pull on a jacket since it looked a little windy outside.

"Well you should buy a car. It's not safe for a woman to be walking around late at night," Itachi continued as he followed her to the foyer where she jammed her feet into black ballerina flats. Flipping her hair out of her face as she stood up, Sakura jabbed her pointer finger into his chest.

"Then you give me $20,000 and I'll be happy to comply," she sniffed before she grabbed her handbag and flounced out the door.

Sakura honestly tried to be mad at him. She tried to treat him like a very annoying stray dog that was following her around at the supermarket. But he pushed the cart, carried heavy things and reached up on high shelves that she could never reach. By the end of the trip when they were paying for all the food, Sakura's attempts at irritation had melted into grudging thankfulness for the strange man's constant presence.

He even started putting away all the food in the pantry and refrigerator when they got home. When she started the laundry, he wordlessly came into the backyard to hang up everything on clotheslines. He didn't talk much, only offering a few words here and there whenever she asked him things.

She glared at him when she was sitting in the living room folding her socks and he came in with two cups of warm tea.

"Stop being perfect. It's creeping me out," she grunted as she accepted the steaming mug. He shrugged as he took one of the loose socks from the pile and began hunting for its twin.

About a week passed that way. Since Sakura didn't have a car but refused to be driven around like a child in Itachi's, he walked her to and from the hospital with little complaint. In the meantime, he helped out with the chores and sometimes offered a willing ear when she had a mountain of things to complain about.

Precisely eight days after their first encounter with the poodle-eating psychopath in the park (Sakura called him PEPP for short), Sakura found herself stuck with another long shift that ended just before midnight. She snuck into a supply closet at the hospital to check her phone and give him a text to let him know not to wait up for her. Sure, the buses weren't running this late but the walk home was short and she figured there couldn't be **two** dog-eating hobos stumbling around in the same park. When her shift ended shortly before midnight and her replacement lurched in with a cup of coffee, she headed to the locker rooms to shower and change out of her scrubs.

It was muggy and the temperature during the day had spiked at around 85. Now that the sun had gone down, it was a little bit cooler but the stickiness still hovered in the air. It felt like trying to walk through a swimming pool. She had taken Itachi's advice and stopped wearing killer heels when walking home and she clutched a can of pepper spray in her right hand just in case one of the shadows nearby turned out to be a psychopath with a bat or a rapist with a gun. Halfway home, she heard footsteps. They almost matched up with hers but not quite. She stopped and for a split second, another set of footsteps crunched across the gravel before stopping.

It was midnight, she was tired, and there was some creep stalking her.

Sakura broke into a run. And to her horror, she heard a gravelly voice swear before the sound of heavy boots clomping after her reached her ears. (Note, the boots were not hers because she was currently wearing pink sequined flats that most definitely would not make such a stomping ruckus.) She imagined Itachi's face as he shook his head and sighed, saying, "I told you so" until she wanted to punch something. A clammy hand closed around her left arm so she whirled around to spray pepper spray into her assailant's eyes. She could have given him a squirt and then run off, but by then, she was so frustrated at him for being seriously weird and at Itachi for being right all the time that she emptied the entire can into his face.

"WHY ARE YOU MAKING MY LIFE DIFFICULT? I JUST WANT TO EAT SOME CHOCOLATE PUDDING AND GO TO BED, DAMNIT!" Sakura snarled as she kicked him in the shins and then rammed her knee into the sputtering man's crotch. Another set of footsteps came pattering down the concrete so she whirled around, ready to throw the now empty can if necessary. Part of her was relieved that it was Itachi and another part was annoyed at him not for showing up earlier and still another part of her was even more annoyed that he had showed up at all.

"Uh…I heard you yell…" Itachi lamely said as he noticed the man writhing in agony on the ground. Sakura growled before she flung the empty can at him anyway. Itachi easily caught it as he took a few steps toward the groaning man sprawled across the concrete. Itachi nudged the quietly sobbing stranger with the tip of his sheathed sword before he kicked him aside. He looked at Sakura for a long moment.

"You're not hurt," he observed.

"No. But I'm hungry and I'm pissed off. Let's go home. You better not have eaten my pudding," Sakura growled as she began stomping down the path that cut through most of the park. There was a pause before she heard Itachi follow after her. They didn't encounter any more creepers or rapists or cannibals on the way but Sakura was in a foul enough mood that they might have just been hiding from her.

"I didn't eat your pudding but I got hungry so I finished off that slice of cheesecake in the freezer," Itachi admitted as they started up the stone walkway to her condo. Sticking her key in the lock, Sakura turned to give him a withering stare.

"Smartass," she scoffed before she stepped into the air-conditioned house.

* * *

><p>"Hey, sister, does Sakura really need that expensive bodyguard?" Ebizo asked as he looked away from the fishing documentary on TV. Chiyo was settled in a plush white armchair with her feet up on a matching ottoman. Grinning widely, Chiyo let out a little cackle.<p>

"Of course not, silly. That girl's as strong as I was at her age," Chiyo scoffed. When her younger brother continued to eye her questioningly, Chiyo sighed.

"I just wanted to see if I can manage to see my first great-grandchild before I die," Chiyo laughed in a reedy voice. Ebizo slowly shook his head as he turned back to the show.

"Crazy old bat," he sighed.

* * *

><p>Keep those prompts coming! I've finally managed to start writing again so I'm trying to be as productive as possible. Let me know what you want to see (as long as it's not Sakura and Itachi riding dinosaurs through space or something because I can only do so much).<p> 


	15. Dark

Dark

(suggested by nameisNiNjA)

His voice never rose above a whisper.

She didn't remember when she had first heard him beckon to her in a silken voice that seemed to come from the very darkness itself. Gripping onto the small knife she kept stashed inside the nightstand, she slipped out of bed. The night air kissed her thighs and arms as she edged along the wall and carefully peered out past the flowing white curtains. The sight of the bright red eyes watching her made her heart leap into her throat.

Barely thinking, barely breathing, she shoved the window the rest of the way open.

How had he slipped into the village undetected?

"Is Sasuke-kun with you?" she asked in words barely audible even to herself. She waited for his head to lift again. The tired sag of his shoulders and the pale hand gripping her windowsill to stay upright didn't escape her eyes. When he shook his head, she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her mouth. She stood very still for a moment, listening to floorboards creak upstairs. There were muffled voices from next door, muted words and the pre-recorded laughter from some television sitcom. She scanned the street with urgent eyes before she beckoned for him to come inside.

It took him too long to climb in through her window. His movements were stiff and almost hesitant. And then he was standing in her bedroom. A tattered cloak was draped over his shoulders, faded from black to a musty shade of grey. His hands were spattered with dried blood. She stared at them for a long time before she moved past him to yank the curtains together, blocking out the gentle orange glow from the streetlight outside. With her back to what was once one of the most wanted criminals in Fire Country, Sakura closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Why are you here?" she asked in a tiny voice. What was still smaller was the barely discernable sound of his reply from just behind her.

"I don't know."

And that answer was good enough to let him stay. Since he sounded just as lost as she felt.

"You're… my brother's teammate…. The one who killed Akasuna no Sasori," he suddenly said. There was no question in his tone.

"You killed Kabuto. Shouldn't you be dead too? Dead again, I mean," Sakura queried as she took a seat on the far end of her bed, as far away from him as she could manage.

"I don't know," he just said in the same, flat voice. A million-year-old sigh rattled out of his lungs as he lowered himself onto the mattress. Even though she had convinced herself that this was okay, that she knew what she was doing, she couldn't stop her body from trying to create distance between them. Just the oppressive force of his chakra in the tiny room was enough to make gooseflesh rise all over her arms and legs.

They sat on opposite ends of the bed, her curled up with her back pressed against the wall. His eyes were restless, moving from her to the door to the time to the window to her in a rhythmic pattern that seemed to dance along to the abnormally loud ticking of the small alarm clock on her nightstand.

"Are you frightened by me?" he finally asked. Back straight, one leg casually crossed over the together, he stared straight ahead at the wall when he spoke. She pressed her fingertips together, fighting the sudden and insane urge to laugh. Just to break the silence. Just to hear something other than the sound of despair hanging between them.

"Yes," she replied in a soft voice. The black fan of his eyelashes lowered as he blinked, closing his eyes for just a moment too long.

The sharpness of his profile, the brittleness of his posture.

They made her want to curl up in a ball and just cry.

He looked at her, with eyes that blazed brilliantly red and dismally dark all at once. His sclera had turned black, probably a side-effect of the technique that had revived him. She didn't think about what she was doing until she realized that she was reaching out to touch the back of his hand with one trembling finger. He closed his eyes as a mocking shadow of a smile fell across his face.

"You're cold," Sakura observed as she left her hand there, just barely touching his. When she tried to pull away, his hand moved impossibly fast to grab her wrist.

He couldn't come back into the village without the risk of being detected. He told her that he had found a place to stay in a nearby little town with a landlord that didn't ask questions. Sakura started taking more missions; long-term ones that she knew would give her a few days of freedom here and there. And she arrived in the run-down little town with the hood of her cloak pulled up to hide her pink hair. Before she even knocked, the doorknob would twist under her palm because Itachi was first and foremost a shinobi.

"Why are you here?" he had asked in an infuriatingly quiet voice the first time she had come to visit. The cadence of his words was raw and exposed like a heart beating furiously inside a chest cavity as some cruel surgeon ripped it open to expose to the world. He was wearing dark pants and a loose grey shirt. If she hadn't been able to feel the soft danger of his chakra swirling around her, she almost might have believed that he was like any other civilian.

Sakura didn't have the words to answer him then. Maybe she would never find those exact words. Instead, she rose on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. It was a whisper of a kiss that she could barely feel before she pulled away. The weight of his burning crimson gaze on her was almost suffocating. When he took a step toward her, she automatically took one step back. This happened two more times before her back hit the door, leaving her with no place to go. His hands settled on either side of her head, long fingers spreading out to brush against the sanded wood.

All Sakura could focus on was the searing heat of his gaze on her before he kissed her, so carefully and gently as if she were made of glass. Even the breath that he exhaled against her lower lip was cool, as if every single part of him was meant to be a reminder that he was actually dead. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and let herself drown in cold feeling of his mouth pressing against hers again.

She didn't know what she had really expected. Perhaps she still couldn't get rid of the negativity that was attached to his name in her mind, even though she already knew that he wasn't a crazed killer out to torment his brother. There was something thrilling about his touch, about the way his gaze would follow her whenever she walked around the room retrieving her clothes and pulling them on. If she passed by him, he would reach out, brushing the backs of his fingers along the small of her back or her thigh. The way he laid in bed, half-buried in the pillows and his black hair obscuring part of his face would sometimes be enough to make her forget whatever she had been doing for a moment.

And then, one day, when she had taken a month-long mission to give medical counseling to the daimyo's ailing wife, Sakura found a day to stop by at the now-familiar apartment. As they lay in bed, Sakura curled up on her side with her back to him, she was seized with sudden guilt. By now, she had come to accept that Sasuke was probably dead and she was careful enough to make sure that no one would ever grow suspicious about her whereabouts for a few days every month. Though she still had a few hours to waste, she sat up, scanning the room for her clothes. They sat in a rumpled pile at the foot of the bed, tangled with Itachi's.

"I have to go," she announced without looking at him. When she stretched her arm out to get her shirt, the cool touch of Itachi's hand on her arm stopped her.

"Stay," Itachi said in such a quiet voice that she wondered if she had heard him wrong. Still refusing to look at him, she clenched her fingers and then unclenched them. Exhaling slowly through her nostrils, Sakura slowly looked at him over her shoulder. He was sitting up with the sheets pooling in his lap and his bangs falling into his face. When their eyes met, Sakura watched with shock as the crimson leeched from his irises, leaving dark brown that she had never seen before. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her left shoulder blade.

"Stay," he murmured against her warm skin.

"I'm sorry," she replied as she slipped past his fingers.

And so her month-long missions stretched out to several months that sometimes spanned long enough for people to wonder if she had died. A lot of times she claimed to be leaving the village in search of new herbs for medicines. Being friends with the new Hokage made it easy for her to get permission to leave for such long periods.

One day, she found herself lying on the floor of the tiny living room between Itachi's legs. Hers were slung carelessly over his thighs as she stared up at nothing in particular. The dark wooden beams running along ran in sharp X's all over the ceiling and the swirling grain pattern felt like a million eyes glaring down at her.

"Do you have a dream?" she suddenly asked, not looking at him.

"No. Not really," Itachi sighed in a voice that barely existed. A frown stretched her mouth as she raised herself on her elbows to look at him.

"Then what's your dream?" Itachi asked. Her frown softened at the question. It was rare for him to ask her anything. It was rare for him to speak this much at all. Her eyes roamed around the room, landing finally on the worn-out, musty couch that they never used because it always smelled strongly of moth balls.

"I don't really have one either," Sakura finally admitted. But, she supposed, it didn't really matter because wanting and wishing and dreaming couldn't raise people from the dead. There was no point in saying that her goal was for Team 7 to finally be reunited. Everyone else had moved on. She was the only one left still clinging to shadows of a few happy memories, of the days when Naruto yelled and laughed and she was a whiny little girl without much ambition but a lot of hope.

"I don't have one," she firmly repeated, not meeting his eyes this time.

And one soundless morning, Sakura woke to an oppressive silence that would have broken her heart had she not already known what was going on. She was curled up on her side, her back to him like always. She could feel his breaths in the slow, even pattern she had come to recognize. It was cold in the rickety apartment with faulty heating but she didn't want to move closer to him under the blanket. It suddenly felt horribly wrong to be there, like she was intruding on something so fragile and sacred that just her uneven heartbeats might break it.

"I'm going to die today," Itachi quietly told her. Not opening her eyes, she slowly nodded.

Then his hands were reaching for her, pulling her closer. His mouth was on the back of her neck, on her shoulder blades and her arms. He made love to her in a soft, sad, sweet way with lingering kisses and soft caresses. But after that, she didn't stay in his arms, drawing random patterns with her finger over his shoulder. She didn't rest against his chest to listen for a heartbeat she knew she would never hear. Without a single word, she rolled off of him, curling up in the same position on her side to stare at the blank wall. She closed her eyes and listened for his unchanging breaths, for the creak of the floorboards, for the sound of a rickshaw rumbling past in the street below.

When she opened her eyes again, sunlight was slanting through the crooked blinds and straight into her eyes. When she lifted her hand to shield her face from the light, the soft squeak of the bed sounded like a drawn out groan. She sat up, rubbing her hands up and down her chilled limbs.

Looking over her shoulder, all she found was a pile of dark ash on top of the comforter.

With a heavy sigh, she stood to get dressed.

* * *

><p>And here we went back to the sad prompts already. Not sorry. This one is probably the crappiest in the collection so far but it's my favorite. Review with more prompts please and I will do my utmost best to get to yours.<p> 


	16. Pinwheel

Not quite happy, not quite sad. I'm slowly regaining the ability to write and this is what happened. Thank you to everyone who has submitted a prompt for me so far. I am continuing to get through them but I suppose this collection might never end.

* * *

><p><span>Pinwheel<span>

(suggested by Katarin Kishika)

There was a house overlooking the sea.

Well, there were a lot of houses overlooking the sea. It was the ocean. Beach houses were spread along the sandy shores, propped up on wooden stilts. Most of them were owned by rich, elderly couples who did little more than sit out on the back porch and fan themselves.

But there was a special house out of all these.

Because there was always a pinwheel taped to the mailbox. It had once been a rainbow of bright colors but had since faded to a dim palette of faded pastels. He flicked his finger over it as he passed, just to hear the plastic crackling in the wind.

* * *

><p>When he had first visited his uncle's beach home over the summer, Uchiha Itachi had decided on a few things.<p>

He would not make new friends.

He would not get attached.

And he most certainly wouldn't enjoy himself.

* * *

><p>There was a house overlooking the sea.<p>

Well, there were a lot of houses overlooking the sea. It was the ocean. Wooden homes fitted with brightly-colored shutters spread down the sparkling sand like the pattern on vintage wallpaper. Most of them were owned by retired couples who liked to wave their paper fans back and forth while recalling happy memories and throwing their heads back to laugh.

But there was a special house out of all of these.

Because there was a boy who peered through the window in the attic. The stained glass had once been vibrant shades of rose and gold but years of wind and sand and harsh rain had dulled the colors to a musty shade of pink. She turned her head to look outside, just to be sure that the window was as empty as it should be.

* * *

><p>When she had packed a light suitcase and moved to the house her grandmother had left her in the will, Haruno Sakura had decided on a few things.<p>

She would not become sad.

She would not become lonely

And she would mostly certainly not forget to live in a world of color.

* * *

><p>There was a girl who rose before dawn each day. The first time he had seen her from the window in his room was a crisp summer morning. He had left the window open the night before and the salty breeze that flowed in whispered the promise of a mild day. It was difficult to see anything in the darkness but her long hair whipping around her head and the airy white fabric of her dress billowing out around her knees. Her walk was slow and stilted, as if she were struggling with each step through the sand. When she passed a lamppost, her skin lit up an eerie shade of gold that turned her into some woodland fairy until she stepped out of the light again.<p>

Her lean silhouette travelled into the horizon. The sky was still black as it waited for the morning to arrive. He watched her move against the darkness until she sat with her back to him. And for a little while, she seemed to melt into the background until all that let him know that she was still there was the occasional flutter of her hair in the wind.

Slowly, the sun, a tiny ball of light, began climbing up in the sky. Layers of pink and red and yellow rose until it began to change to the usual shade of light blue that rested on top of the ocean. He rested his chin on the windowsill as he watched her back. The brighter the world became, the easier it was to see her. Long pink hair fell to the middle of her back, dancing in the wind like it had a mind of its own. She was bent over something for a long time before she suddenly stood. She bent over to pick up a small wooden stool that she folded and then tucked under her left arm. With something hugged closely to her chest, she turned to the right and began trekking down the shore.

Three houses down, he counted, she travelled up the walkway and disappeared into a house that looked just like the others around it. The only difference was a faint blob of color on the white picket fence that separated the yard from the beach.

* * *

><p>Her alarm clock rang a few minutes before dawn each day. The first morning she had started this ritual was forgiving and cool. As she turned the knob and opened the front door, the salt-soaked air that kissed her held the promise of a mild day. It was difficult to see anything in the darkness with her long hair tangling around her face. The white lace sundress she had chosen to wear gathered and flowed around her legs as she moved. Her steps were slow and a little difficult as she compensated for the wooden stool under her left arm and the large sketchpad tucked under the right. Her bare feet sunk into the soft sand until her ankles were swallowed up in the grainy powder. When she passed a lamppost, her skin lit up an alien shade of burning gold for the split second before she continued on.<p>

Her eyes were glued to the horizon. The sky was a deep shade of ultramarine that filtered into a faint smudge of pink closest to the smooth surface of the sea. She flipped the stool open and set it on a relatively stable expanse of sand before she opened up the metal case of soft pastels she treasured and took a seat to face the water. And for a little while, she let herself sink into the gentle roar of the ocean.

Slowly, pink stretched up with rosy fingers that grasped at the heavens. Blazing shades of crimson and amber seeped upwards, climbing steadily until azure peered cheerfully over the water. Her fingers frantically danced over each pastel, blurring and spreading colors that couldn't even begin to imitate the beauty of the real sky. The brighter the world became, the harder it was to grasp the colors. The fiery hues of the earliest morning faded and she let the sky blue pastel drop back into the case. With a sharp sigh, she stood to take one last look out into the water. She bent over to pick up the small wooden stool that she folded and then tucked under her left arm. With her sketchpad hugged closely to her chest, she turned to the right and began trekking down the shore.

Three houses down, she counted, she travelled up the flagstone walkway and disappeared into a house that looked just like the others around it. The only difference was the battered old pinwheel on the white picket fence that separated the yard from the beach.

* * *

><p>He liked to go swimming at night. It was a private beach so it wasn't that he was avoiding people. Something about the numbing crash of the waves against the shore was perfect to clear his head. He ran barefoot across the damp sand, shedding his shirt and throwing it wherever. Sometimes it got washed away in the tides and he was fine with that.<p>

Sucking in a deep breath, he plunged into the cool water. The angry roar of the pounding waves softened to a gentle rushing noise that filled his ears. He swam out to a sandbar where the water just barely closed over his head if he let his feet touch the bottom. He sucked in another greedy gasp of moist air before he disappeared beneath the waves and drifted just above the sand. He stared out into the clear waters, occasionally catching the wiggle of tangled weeds and occasionally a glint of silver that might have been a lost fish.

With the taste of salt coating the inside of his mouth and throat, he pushed off the shoal and rose to the surface to tread water. He pushed his messy hair out of his eyes to stare back at the shore he had left behind. The neat line of houses was occasionally marked by soft yellow light from one of the windows. Sometimes the flicker of orange down the beach alerted him to a campfire. Out of habit, his gaze drifted to the house three to the left from his uncle's. All the windows stood cold and black. He fought down a sudden surge of disappointment as he sank under the water again.

Strong, measure strokes and kicks pulled him back to the shore. He stood waist-deep, letting the rough motions of the waves push him back and forth for a while. As he reached up to tie his hair back, he caught a shape moving through the darkness. Very slowly, his eyes adjusted and he began to recognize the wild whip of long hair being tossed in the wind. Impossibly white arms and legs peeked out from a pale dress. She took careful steps down the wet sand and around stray shells. He rubbed water out of his eyes before he saw her bend over and lift something from the edge of the waves.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked.

Her voice leeched the color out of everything until all he could hear was the color blue.

* * *

><p>He liked to go swimming at night. It was a private beach so it was easy to guess who it was slinking around so late. Something about the numbing crash of the waves against the shore beckoned to her that particular night. He ran barefoot across the damp sand, ripping his shirt off and tossing it aside. Sometimes it got washed away in the tides and it made her a little sad.<p>

Sucking in a deep breath, she stepped into the cool air. The angry roar of the pounding waves called out in a rumbling voice. She watched him go out to the sandbar where his dark head disappeared for a moment. He surfaced again with a splash before he sank to a place unknown to her. The smooth roll of the ocean murmured to her for a while as she stared off into the black sky dotted with brilliant points of light.

The bob of his head reappearing created a bump in the horizon. From here, he could have been anything; a piece of rotting driftwood, maybe a tangle of old fishing nets. Somehow, she got the feeling that he was looking this way so she turned to see what he was seeing. The identical buildings painted in the same, sad shade of white stretched out in front of her. She could smell smoke and knew that some kids were holding a campfire and roasting marshmallows on crooked sticks. Out of habit, her gaze drifted to his house three to the right from hers. All the windows stood cold and black, even the rosy one in the attic. She fought down a sudden surge of disappointment as she turned back in time to see his head sink into the abyss again.

The splashes of his movement were almost lost to her over the insistent sounds of the moving ocean. But she blinked and there he stood, waist-deep in shallow waters. As he reached up with both hands, she caught a small shape slipping into the waters. Without thinking, she began following it even though she couldn't tear her eyes from him. Strong, lean lines of arms and shoulders sloped down into the waves. She took careful steps down the cool sand and around stray shells. Squinting in the darkness, she finally located the blob and dipped her fingers into the water to retrieve it. It was his t-shirt, sodden and salty.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked.

His gaze sucked the noise out of everything until all she could see was the sound of the ocean.

* * *

><p>That summer was one of sun-bleached days and whitewashed nights. He never interrupted her morning ritual of trying to capture the sunrise and she never interrupted his nighttime ritual of losing himself in the sea again. She, with her walls plastered with failed drawings of the sunrise in dozens of different mediums, occasionally peeked out her window in time to see him throw himself into the water. He, holed up in the attic to read through his uncle's old books, occasionally peeked out his window in time to see her reaching her hands up to the rising sun, as if to cradle the star in her palms.<p>

Sometimes, in the breathless hush between morning and night, they would walk along the cold sand and listen to the ocean hum powerfully beneath their soles. Sometimes, she would put her frail hand in his and he would squeeze his fingers around it. Sometimes, they wouldn't speak at all and simply let the silence bridge the gap between their thin skins.

But most nights, they lay together in the cold sand, watching the sky spin past and waiting for a moment to end.

* * *

><p>June, July, and then August.<p>

* * *

><p>One day, she was on her front porch, sitting on top of a battered suitcase to draw the sunrise in colored pencil. And as always, by the time the sun had really risen, she stared down at the mess of blurred hues and felt the disappointment weigh down inside her chest. With a muted sigh, she flipped to a fresh page and let the pencil scratch across the thick paper.<p>

On a sudden whim, she bolted across the beach, sand just beginning to warm under the laughing sun. She wedged the paper into the space between the gate and a fencepost. She glanced up at the house, up toward the rose-colored window in the attic with its musty, scratched pane. To her surprise, there was a solemn face that simply watched her.

When she waved, she saw his smile for the first time.

* * *

><p>One day, she was on her front porch, sitting on top of a battered suitcase to draw the sunrise as always. For some reason, she left a piece of paper and then disappeared into a big, drowning world with too many colors and too many sounds. When he ventured outside to check the mail, what he found was a piece of thick paper folded neatly into fourths. It was a roughly-colored sketch of the pinwheel still sitting in front of her house.<p>

He stared down at the footprints tracking across the beach. He would be going home in less than three days but he hadn't bothered to tell her. He hadn't needed to. The scent of oil paints and lemon lingered on the paper from where she had touched it the most. Turning his head, he glanced down at the house with the little plastic pinwheel.

He realized that she had drawn the blurry blades with the wrong colors..

* * *

><p>Review with new prompts please. Or review with your reaction. Let me know what you think. Let me know if you're confused. Don't worry. This one's supposed to confuse you.<p> 


	17. Citrus

10 points to whoever figures out which movie Sakura's first words are from. Is this depressing? I don't even know anymore. I just needed to get this out of the way before my brain exploded.

* * *

><p><span>Citrus<span>

(Suggested by Mistress Ayako)

"How is it, Sakura?"

"Do you like it? We used lots of dill and rosemary!"

"Chew slowly. You'll choke."

Very carefully, Sakura set her fork down on the table. Her jaw moved slowly, thoroughly mashing the food between her teeth. The anxious faces crowded in front of her followed her hand as she reached for the fork again.

"Is it good?"

She forced the lump down her throat, running her tongue along the front of her teeth as she gathered words.

"It tastes... It tastes like ashes," she whispered.

* * *

><p>"<em>I think it's a psychological block. There doesn't seem to be physically anything wrong with her taste buds."<em>

"_The patient is not a smoker. She is not undergoing any sort of cancer treatment. Physically she is quite healthy."_

"_Can you stop talking like she can't hear you?" _

_The room went silent as Sasuke stood to grab the back of Ino's shirt. Hysterical tears streamed down her cheeks as she pointed angrily at the lump lying inert in the hospital bed._

"_SHE'S A PERSON! SHE'S NOT DEAD! SHE'S A PERSON WITH FEELINGS!" Ino wailed. She stopped struggling against Sasuke's hold and started sobbing loudly and inconsolably like a child. Sasuke released her as he eyed the stunned faces of the doctors._

"_We're checking her out today. You've been of no help to us," he finally said over the sound of Ino's loud hiccups. _

* * *

><p>"It tastes like ashes."<p>

There was a flurry of activity. Someone cleared the plate away while another pair of hands helped her out of the chair.

"I guess we made a mistake with the recipe. We'll try again tomorrow. Right?"

The nervous laughter surrounding her made her want to vomit. But she was too tired to admit anything like that. She was glad to have an excuse to go to bed early. Normally Ino would pester her to take a bath or to watch some pointless TV show with her. She brushed off her friend's pleas to change into pajamas and simply crawled into bed in her jeans and sweater before pulling the covers over her head.

"How is she?"

A silhouette in the doorway blocked the soft light from the hall. Sasuke's dark eyes didn't move from the shape curled up on the bed. She hadn't stirred at all. Sometimes he was seized with a sudden fear that she had managed to suffocate herself. But he knew peeling back the comforter to check would only wake her up and upset her.

"Ashes. She said it tasted like ashes," Sasuke sighed. His hands were clenched in front of him as if in prayer. He let out a shaky breath as his older brother stepped into the bedroom.

"But I thought she loved-"

"Well she didn't! She couldn't taste it at all!" Sasuke snapped. There was a long pause. Sucking in air through his nose, Sasuke smoothed his fingers along the edge of the sheets. The whisper of fabric almost drowned out the barely audible sound of her breathing.

"What do you need me for? I'm not a psychiatrist," Itachi asked, standing above Sasuke's hunched, twisted form.

"Help her. Please."

In the morning, when her shadowed eyes fluttered open, he was just entering the room with a tray. She barely glanced his way before she closed her eyes again.

"It's almost noon. You should eat," Itachi told her. She didn't stir, remaining an immobile mass of blankets and tangled hair. Frowning, he plucked a fruit from the tray and crouched by her side to fix her with a disapproving stare.

"Eat. They bought these fresh at the market this morning," he insisted, pulling at the edge of the blanket to reveal her face. Not opening her eyes, barely breathing. She didn't respond at all. Irritated by her lack of interest, he grasped her wrist and pulled her into a sitting position. Her eyes snapped wide open as she struggled weakly against him.

"Don't touch me," she sighed. But he raised his eyebrows at her.

"So you can talk? Why don't you eat something then?" he suggested, holding out a bright red strawberry. She eyed him wearily before she carefully lifted the fruit and brought it to her mouth.

"I hate shrinks," she softly said as she chewed.

"I'm a chef. What about you?" Itachi responded evenly.

"I'm sick," she replied.

"Does it taste bad?" he asked.

"Yeah."

* * *

><p>It had been a month since Sakura had come to Sasuke's winery. It was sunny and balmy and the lush lines of grapevines stretching up and down the hills would have made her tear from the sheer beauty of it all. But she was an empty husk of a person. It was as if she had forgotten how to make any sort of facial expression at all. She alternated between nights of sleepless unease and entire days spent slumbering so peacefully that it was as if she was dead. Any food that entered her mouth became flavorless mush meant to torment her. She couldn't bathe by herself. The maid and Ino had to wash, dry and clothe her every day. Even the simple task of buttoning her own clothes had become an unfathomable mystery to her.<p>

Childlike and blank, she existed but barely so.

It was after Sakura had managed to drop several more pounds that they had grown desperate and begged for Sasuke's brother to come stay. And even though he was a big-time chef working at a fancy hotel now, he dropped everything and came to the countryside with just one suitcase and a metal case filled with cookware.

"I don't know what you expect me to do. She can't eat, remember?" Itachi sighed as Sasuke watched him sharpen his knives in the large kitchen.

But you can make anyone eat," Sasuke argued. And Itachi didn't have the heart to correct his brother.

"What is she anyway? An ex-girlfriend?" Itachi asked, a little curious. He only saw her whenever Ino and the maid managed to drag her downstairs to eat. Some days she was just too tired to even crawl out of bed. Even light soup came back to the kitchen untouched. He wondered if she was pretty. Under a wild nest of uncombed hair and dark circles, it was impossible to get a clear idea of her appearance. The sharp lines of her cheekbones and chin were promising though.

"No. But she needs me," Sasuke replied a little cryptically.

* * *

><p>Each meal was always a stifling affair.<p>

"Come on, Sakura. You should try at least a bite. People usually pay a lot to try his food," Sasuke coaxed, holding up a spoon to her uncooperative lips. Her apathetic gaze skimmed over the decadent bouillabaisse steaming in front of her. Of course it was made with only the most expensive and fresh shellfish but she couldn't smell anything. When she turned her face away, Sasuke's smile faltered a little.

"Maybe she'll prefer the herb biscuits. They're still warm!" Ino piped up, pulling the basket toward her to pick up a pastry. When she split it open, steam curled into the air in soft wisps. Even though Ino went through the trouble of buttering it, when she brought it close to Sakura, she was met with the same indifference.

"What about the braised quail eggs?"

"Try the salad."

As more and more food was offered up to her, Sakura's stare grew further and further away. Itachi sat across the table from her, observing her until Ino lifted a small strip of chicken up to Sakura and he could see Sakura's knuckles turn white as she clenched her hand around her napkin.

"Everyone please enjoy your meal out here. I'll be treating Miss Sakura to a special chef's lunch," Itachi announced as he stood. Sakura was limp, almost dead weight as he lifted her from her chair. She shuffled all the way to the kitchen, haggard expression unchanging. With a heavy sigh, he sat her down at the island and leaned across the counter to stare into her face.

"May I take your order?" he asked. She was unresponsive.

"You should be honored. Not many people get to dine at the chef's table. How about something simple? Meatloaf? Macaroni and cheese?" Itachi continued speaking as he picked up his apron and pulled it over his head. When he turned, her dead eyes were focused on him.

"What are you doing? I can't taste anything," she rasped. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I think it's not that you can't. I think that you just don't want to. Besides, who wants to eat all of that luxury stuff? It's comfort food that everyone likes," he scoffed, rolling his eyes toward the dining room just outside.

"…Chocolate pudding…" she whispered and then quickly looked away. Smiling, he rolled up his sleeves and ducked into the pantry to hunt up a bar of chocolate. She leaned on her elbows as she watched him cook, immediately averting her gaze whenever he turned around to grab another utensil. As he poured the finished mixture through a strainer and covered it with plastic wrap, he was positive that he heard her sniffing the air a little. He set the bowl in the refrigerator to cool off.

"30 minutes. Maybe 20 if you can't wait," Itachi informed her as he sat at the counter next to her. She blinked silently.

"You know, you still haven't asked me who I am," he said after a moment of silence. She was engrossed with staring emptily down at her fingers.

"You're a chef," she simply replied.

"…Yes I am," he responded with a little chuckle.

Twenty minutes later, he set a small crystal bowl down in front of her along with a silver spoon. She simply stared down at the dessert for a while until he picked up the spoon and placed it in her right hand. Like she had never eaten before, Sakura carefully scooped up some pudding and brought it up to her mouth. The sound of her teeth scraping against the spoon was the only noise in the kitchen. His eyes were carefully trained on her expression but she gave away nothing as she swallowed.

"Is it bad or awful?" Itachi finally asked. She stared down at the bowl.

"Bad," she immediately replied. Letting out a sigh, he propped his chin up with his hand.

* * *

><p>"Sakura, are you awake?" Ino whispered as she carefully cracked the door open. Her eyes automatically searched for the tangled mess usually situated on the bed. But the sheets were empty and instead she found Sakura leaning against the windowsill.<p>

"Taking in the fresh air? Good idea," Ino said as she approached the window. However, Sakura's gaze was focused intently on something below. Ino put one hand on her friend's shoulder as she stared down at the scene below. A sly smile crossed her face.

"Or you're taking in the sights. I'm not complaining either."

Sakura's forehead puckered. In the garden, Sasuke and Itachi were busy filling up wicker baskets with brightly colored fruit. She recognized the color even from far away.

"Raspberries," she whispered, watching Itachi lift a sun-warmed berry to his lips. She knew the sweet yet tart flavor would explode in his mouth. The sticky juice would cling to the corners of his lips. Liquid sun and sweetness to coat the tongue.

"Why can't I?"

Ino blinked a few times, looking confused.

"What do you mean? Get dressed and you can go help them, silly," Ino urged, poking Sakura's elbow once for emphasis. Sakura shook her head.

"Why can't I eat too?" she asked in a small, child-like voice. She suddenly wanted desperately to cry. Anything to penetrate the hollow ache that had settled in the middle of her body.

"Oh…honey," Ino whispered, enveloping her in her arms. And just because Sakura couldn't, Ino cried for her, tears and snot and everything wetting her face while Sakura raised a weary hand to smooth over her dry cheeks. She closed her eyes, suddenly too tired to feel. She wanted just to rest, to be nothing, to see and to feel nothing.

"You skipped breakfast again."

Sakura opened her eyes. She was stretched out on the cushioned window seat. Ino was gone. Blinking a few times, she glanced out the window to find the garden empty. Instead, Itachi was standing in the doorway with yet another silver tray. Silver tray after silver tray of new food had crossed over that threshold. Each one beautiful and fragrant. Each one had promised so much only to dissolve to tasteless mush against her tongue.

"I'm tired," she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes.

"Because you haven't eaten," he responded with a little smile. Her eyes followed him as he walked over to the bed and laid the tray down on top of the freshly-changed sheets and crisp comforter. He lifted the silver lid to reveal an elegant crystal bowl filled with light yellow scoops of something.

"Lemon sorbet," he announced proudly. Almost reluctantly, she accepted the glass and the accompanying spoon. With slow movements, she scooped up a mouthful of the cold food and brought it to her mouth. There was a long silence as she let it melt inside her mouth.

"I….It…..It tastes like sunshine," she murmured.

"That's good, right?" Itachi asked a little cautiously. Biting down on the edge of the spoon, she nodded.

She was telling the truth because a few days later, Itachi and Sasuke were flipping through one of the many cookbooks Sasuke had purchased. They had gone through hundreds of recipes, many with a little X in the corner of the page from where they had tried and Sakura had hated it. The door squeaked open and neither brother looked up.

"Ino? I thought you were going grocery shopping?" Sasuke said with a frown.

"Itachi."

Both heads snapped up at the sound of Sakura's soft voice. Since Ino wasn't around to help her, Sakura hadn't gotten dressed. She was still wearing the frilly yellow nightgown she wore to bed. Her bare shoulders and loose hair looked out of the place in the rustic kitchen filled with polished copper and dark wood.

"Um…I'm hungry…" Sakura admitted, her eyes darting nervously to Sasuke once before she focused on Itachi.

"I figured you would be soon. You in the mood for dessert again?" Itachi responded. Sakura slowly shook her head. As if he had expected such an answer, Itachi picked up grapefruit out of the glass bowl sitting on the counter and held it out to her. After a moment, Sakura bit her lip.

"…Peel it for me?"

Sasuke's jaw dropped.

* * *

><p>"You're eating a lot."<p>

"Mean."

Itachi smiled.

"I meant it as a good thing. You look healthy," he amended, flipping to the next page of the cookbook resting in his lap. The gazebo in the backyard provided just enough shade from the hot afternoon sun. It was a lazy, humid day occasionally punctuated by refreshing breezes that tickled across the skin.

"This one looks tasty, doesn't it?" he suggested, pointing to a photo of a decadent white cake topped with bright yellow shavings of lemon peel. She briefly lifted her head to peer at the picture before she shrugged and rolled onto her back. A tart scent filled the air as she dug her nails into the round fruit. A pile of peels sat by her head from oranges that had already been opened and devoured.

"You know, you'll turn into a giant orange if that's all you'll eat," Itachi remarked, placing his finger in the book to mark the page before he shut it.

"I eat other stuff too," she weakly protested, not meeting his eyes.

"Yes. Like grapefruit and tangerines and kumquats," he easily said. Scowling, she peeled off a section of orange and stuck it in her mouth. Itachi's expression sobered as he watched her leisurely rip off another section. She bit down on her lower lip, sucking it in between her teeth. She tilted her head back to look up at him quizzically. His hand had frozen while flipping to the next page as he stared at her mouth.

"Here," she said, reaching up to shove a wedge of orange between his lips.

Chuckling, he watched her finish off the orange and curl up on the wooden bench to nap again. But after a minute, she scowled, evidently dissatisfied with something. She opened her eyes to look around for a moment before she scooted over and deposited her head in his lap. The fragrance of citrus filled the air as she slumbered on and Itachi continued to flip through his book with patient fingers.

* * *

><p>"Itachi."<p>

He looked up to find Sasuke standing in the doorway. There was a silver tray in his hands. The tall glass that had contained orange juice was drained. A pile of tangy-scented peels were in a neat pile in the middle of the plate. Even the small slice of lemon cake he had sent up had been eaten. Not a crumb remained on the platter. A smile touched his mouth as he crossed the floor to take the tray from his brother. Instead, Sasuke elbowed past him and slammed the tray down on the counter.

"What are you doing?" Sasuke demanded in a low, rough voice.

"What are you talking about?" inquired Itachi, raising his eyebrows.

"According to Ino, Sakura wasn't in her room last night. So I went to look for her and found her sleeping in **your** bed," Sasuke seethed. Itachi didn't seem to comprehend his brother's fury.

"That thunderstorm last night… She came to my room saying that she couldn't fall asleep," Itachi responded with a shrug.

"And?" Sasuke prompted. It was Itachi's turn to frown.

"And nothing. She was scared. What would you have done?" Itachi said a little coldly.

She had waddled into his room, wrapped in a white sheet like some sad, lost ghost. To be perfectly honest, she hadn't actually said anything. Maybe she had been about to but a sudden bolt of lightning had illuminated the room in searing blue light. The rumble of thunder that followed left her trembling and whimpering with huge eyes. In his half-sleeping state, he had simply pulled back the covers and let her crawl in beside him. She had curled up against his back, shaking quietly until he finally felt her still as she fell asleep a few minutes later.

"Listen, she's not your call girl. You can't just-" Sasuke began snarling. Itachi slammed his hand down on the counter.

"I know that. And I didn't do anything so let's end this discussion here before we **both** lose our tempers," he firmly said, staring Sasuke straight in the eye. There was a heavy pause before Sasuke nodded stiffly and shoved his way past the door. The sharp tap of his shoes on the stone floor echoed after him.

"Idiot," Itachi sighed out loud, "I'm an idiot." Shaking his head, he began clearing away the dishes.

* * *

><p>"That's a lot of flour."<p>

Itachi smiled in greeting as he ran his fingers through the dry white powder. It was barely 9 but she was already in a pale blue nightgown under a white cotton robe. In the dim light, she almost looked like she was made of paper. The noise of an eggshell cracking open drew her gaze. He patiently transferred the bright yellow yolk between the broken halves until all the whites had drained away. With her back pressed to the door, she stared at his hands. The smell of something sweet and almost tangy to the point of bitterness lingered in the air.

"What is it?" she finally asked.

"Moroccan orange cake."

There was a pause. The spatula scraped along the edge of the bowl. He picked up a slice of orange he had peeled earlier and popped it into his mouth to taste. Nodding to himself, he continued folding the contents of the bowl together in steady, even strokes.

"I'm going home tomorrow," Sakura suddenly announced. His hand faltered and then stopped. Staring down at the lumpy beige mixture, he took a deep breath.

"This is sudden," he quietly responded.

"My friend got me a job. And I can't keep leaning on Sasuke forever. There's a train at 6 tomorrow morning." Her words grew softer and softer as she spoke, as if she was slowly shrinking, disappearing into nothing.

"Does my brother know?"

Itachi looked up at her silence to catch an odd look on her face. It was a tight mixture of guilt and anger.

"I'm leaving a note. He wouldn't want me to go. He'd think it was his fault," she sighed. Eyes drifting back to the half-mixed batter, she began chewing on her lower lip again.

"So why are you telling me this?" Itachi inquired, leaning his forearms on the counter. Just the tips of her ears grew bright red, the only real hint that she was feeling anything. She had learned how to smile and to frown again. But there was still a doll-like blankness about her face, like she couldn't quite remember how to make certain expressions anymore.

"Well… I'm going to miss you," was her whispered admission.

The following silence was tinged with soft embarrassment. Sakura glanced his way, eyes silently pleading for him to say anything in response. But words stuck in his throat, clinging stubbornly to his dry tongue and lips. She waited and waited until finally the faint light of hope glimmering in her eyes dimmed. Her expression flat, Sakura leaned back against the door until it began swinging open.

Suddenly the kitchen was cold and the batter seemed all wrong and he could see a glint of something in her right eye as she hurried off. Without thinking, he pushed off the counter and ran after her. It only took a few steps to catch up to her. She didn't struggle. She didn't look at him. But the shuddering noise of her breath gave away so much more.

"What do you need me to say to you?" Itachi demanded. Even though his voice wasn't loud, it sounded grating and harsh in the stupid hallway where stupid Sasuke had chosen stone walls with stone floors. The lights were off and all they could clearly see were the whites of each other's eyes.

"I don't _know_," she whispered, her voice cracking at the end.

"I can't… I won't be able to give you what you want," he sighed. A short, watery laugh left her in what almost sounded like a bark.

"I thought you said you weren't a shrink," Sakura sniffed.

"I'm not. I told you. I'm a chef," Itachi agreed. It was only then that she jerked her arm, trying to shake him off.

"And I told you that I'm sick. I'm not stupid. Just sick," she whispered in a tight voice. He reached out in the dark and brushed his hand along her cheek. It was warm and wet with tears and his gut tightened. In the four months he had known her, he had never once seen her cry.

"You're right," he sighed.

"You're right. I'm the stupid one," he said mostly to himself.

So he pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers and feeling her tears touch his face until it felt like he was the one crying. A noise left her, something so foreign and unexpected that it took him a minute to realize that it was the sound of her laughter.

"What? Is my kissing technique that bad?" Itachi asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"You…you taste like sunshine," Sakura whispered in the darkness.

And suddenly, they were both laughing.

Sakura still left early in the morning. She took a cab to the train station. Because she had insisted that she do this alone, Itachi watched from his bedroom, peering past the heavy white drapes as she loaded her things into the trunk and climbed into the back seat. Sasuke had woken a few hours later and Itachi had waited for his little brother to raise a ruckus when he found Sakura gone. As predicted, Sasuke stormed into his room, demanding to know where she was. Not saying anything, Itachi handed Sasuke an envelope, patted him on the shoulder, and went downstairs to make breakfast.

What Sakura had written to Sasuke would always remain a mystery to Itachi. In fact, he was glad that he would never know. Because Sasuke came down to breakfast a little while later with an expression like he had been punched in the face…and then the gut…and then the face again.

With Sakura gone, Ino went home too and left the house feeling much too big and empty for just two brothers.

"Where are you headed?" Sasuke asked one day when he found Itachi packing his suitcase.

"Sasuke, that's a stupid question. You know where I'm headed," Itachi scoffed. Sighing, Sasuke leaned against the doorframe.

"Yeah, I know."

* * *

><p>The first few weeks of life on her own were difficult for Sakura. After months of being coddled and protected by Ino and Sasuke, she had almost forgotten how cold the city was. It was unforgiving, the people uncaring. It was easy to stand on the sidewalk and feel like she was being swallowed whole by the crowd. That was what had consumed her in the first place. A cold darkness. There was as feeling of utter isolation among the neon lights and the smell of cigarettes.<p>

Her new job consisted of sitting in a cubicle and typing all day. But she liked that. The enclosed space was quiet and calm. Her coworkers were friendly. A sort of soft complacency settled over her life and it grew easier and easier to smile until one day, she realized that the expression had grown genuine.

She promised herself that she would keep in touch with Ino, maybe even with Sasuke too. But she had called Sasuke and he had sounded so sad that she couldn't bring herself to dial his number again. Maybe they had been fooling each other. Maybe it hadn't been her that had needed him.

Maybe it had been the other way around.

Early December, when snow was just beginning to dust the ground, Sakura took a sick day. Not because she was sick. She still had days, days when she found it impossible to crawl out of bed and fight the black wave that had once taken over her entire life. These days were growing less and less frequent but no less powerful.

Wrapped in a thick blanket and curled up on the sofa, she flipped through channels on her television just to have some sort of white noise in her quiet apartment. Lifting a mug of tea to her lips, she let her eyes wander to the clock hanging above the television. She had called her favorite Chinese restaurant to order some lunch. Something about tangy, crispy chicken and hot egg drop soup always had the power to make her feel better. Just as she began contemplating calling the restaurant to ask about the missing delivery boy, her doorbell rang.

"Just a moment," she called out as she let the blanket drop back onto the sofa. Shoving her feet into slippers, she shuffled across the worn wooden floor to open the door.

"$7.50, right?"

"I wouldn't exactly call this a balanced meal."

Her lower lip jutted out in an automatic frown as she recognized the patronizing tone. Standing in the hallway was Itachi with a plastic bag in one hand a smug expression curling his mouth. He held his right hand out to her with an expectant look.

"That'll be $7.50, please," Itachi said.

She arched an eyebrow at him. Eyeing the bag, she weighed the pros and cons of shutting the door on his face. But he just stood there and the smell of orange chicken was so enticing and she was hungry and it was cold in the hallway.

"What are you doing here?" she finally asked. Handing the bag of takeout over to her, Itachi smiled. Without uttering another word, he presented her with a second plastic bag that he had been hiding behind his back. She didn't even need to peek inside it. The sweet smell of tangerines was strong enough alone.

"Do…do you want to come in?" Sakura offered as she tried to fight a smile.

* * *

><p>Review here, you! Yes, you! Don't just try to slink away. Please keep suggesting more prompts and please try not to hate me for having such bad writer's block. I promise as soon as I get through this slump that I'll start updating more frequently again.<p> 


	18. Courtesy

Courtesy

(suggested by Miss Alive)

"Ino, I think I'm heading home," Sakura yelled over the dubstep blaring from the speakers. Ino smiled serenely as she threw her arms around Sakura.

"Why? This is so much FUN!" Ino slurred out before she took another swig from the bottle in her hand. Rolling her eyes, Sakura ducked away from the kiss her friend attempted to plant on her cheek.

"Because everyone's hammered and I'm tired," Sakura replied. Ino snorted.

"I wouldn't if I were you. I just saw Temari leave with Shikamaru and you know how loud those two get," Ino warned, shaking an unsteady finger. Sakura wanted to throw something out the window. Though she loved her three roommates dearly, whenever Temari brought her boyfriend home with her, their intense and rather vocal lovemaking was usually enough to keep everyone awake all night. Throwing her arms in the air, Sakura let out a sigh that was drowned out by the blasting music.

"I'll figure something out. Are you going to be okay?" Sakura asked as she helped her friend into a chair. Giggling at nothing in particular, Ino waved.

"I think I'll probably end up crashing here. You be careful, honey," Ino said with a brilliant smile only marred by the fact that she didn't seem capable of sitting up straight any longer. Though Sakura was worried, she knew Ino actually had a decent right hook so there wasn't much danger in leaving her by herself as long as Chouji and Kiba were still around. So just feeling a tiny bit guilty, Sakura retrieved her jacket from Naruto's bedroom and exited the crowded apartment.

It was the middle of November. While October had been pleasantly mild and filled with sunny days, as soon as the calendar page had flipped, an icy wind had settled on top of the city that refused to go away. Sakura regretted letting Ino talk her into wearing a short skirt and sequined halter top instead of the skinny jeans she had originally picked out. Sure, her calves and thighs did look nice but at the moment, Sakura was more worried about them freezing than showing off to some intoxicated strangers.

"Crap," Sakura hissed under her breath as she crouched on the staircase leading into the parking lot. She could still hear the music from inside her friends' apartment even though the door was closed. It was close to 2 in the morning and she was surprised that none of the neighbors had called the cops yet. Shaking her head, she tried to remember which of her friends might be willing to let her crash for the night. Unfortunately, most of those people seemed to be at this particular party already. And from the people dangling out the window on the second floor, none of them seemed to be in any shape to drive anywhere.

"You okay?"

She looked up to find a rather tall person standing over her. There was a cigarette held between his fingers as he stood sucking in the cold air.

"Uh, yeah. Fine. Sorry. Am I in your way?" she said as she stood to let him pass. But he lifted his cigarette.

"Out for a quick smoke. Want one?" he said with a smiling, holding out the battered white carton to her. Sakura shook her head. Shrugging, he stuck it into his back pocket and leaned against the stair railing to stare out into the night. Eyeing her new companion with a little suspicion, Sakura sat right back down on the steps and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket in an attempt to keep them from freezing.

Just as she began thinking about walking home, a cold drop of water landed on her nose.

"Aw, hell," Sakura sighed as rain suddenly poured out of the sky like someone was sitting up on a cloud somewhere and dumping buckets of icy water. She scooted back under the awning and growled curse words under her breath.

"Are you drunk by any chance?" he suddenly asked. Sakura twisted around to stare at him. Smoke curled around his face, making it hard to see his expression. It looked like he was smiling though.

"Sober as can be. So don't get any ideas about trying to take advantage of me," Sakura sniffed. This time, he lowered his arm to rest it against the stair railing. As he tapped the ash off the tip, she finally got a look at him. Dark hair fell into even darker eyes as he stared right back at her. Feeling a little self-conscious, Sakura quickly averted her gaze and turned back around to stare out into the street.

"Do you need a ride home? It's pouring pretty hard," he offered in a slightly husky voice.

"Like I said," Sakura flatly replied, turning around and pointing at herself, "Not drunk. Good luck finding a helpless girl somewhere else." Grumbling to herself about deceptively handsome creeps, Sakura dug her phone out of her pocket to see who she could call for a ride. Just as she found her ex-boyfriend's number, she felt something being dropped into her lap. Her head whipped up to the guy still standing behind her. Mouth twisting into a frown, Sakura lifted the wallet and opened it up to find his driver's license along with credit cards and a decent amount of cash. Then he dropped his cell phone into her lap too.

"There. Now will you let me take you home? It's against my moral code to leave pretty girls out in the rain," he said. Sakura shut the wallet and then looked up at him.

"Only pretty girls?" Sakura demanded. He shrugged as he lifted his cigarette back up to his lips.

"I go out of my way more for the pretty ones. And that's so you know I won't try anything weird," he responded, pointing at the positions he had left to her. Sakura turned the phone over in her right hand as she thought. It was true that a potential creep wouldn't leave her with his ID and his cell phone as well as access to his money.

"Fine. But the thing is, I can't exactly go back to my apartment. One of my roommates has her boyfriend over and they get pretty…vocal," Sakura sighed as she handed the wallet back to him. He seemed to ignore her offer as he took one last drag on his cigarette and then flicked it into the downpour in an almost careless motion. She thought she heard him give a little snort of laughter.

"Then a friend's place?" he ventured. He sat down on the step beside her and then pushed her hand offering his wallet back toward her.

"Can't. Everyone's here," Sakura moped just a little. To prove her point, Kiba exploded out past the front door with Naruto draped over his shoulders.

"SAKURA! COME HERE, BABY GIRL!" Naruto shouted, one hand reaching out to her.

"Hey, you leaving?" Kiba asked in a slightly softer voice. His face wasn't as flushed as Naruto's and he seemed to be mostly capable of standing upright. As he spoke, he shoved Naruto against the doorframe to keep him from slobbering all over her. Naruto was always way too affectionate as a drunk.

"Got no ride. And no offense, Kiba, but I don't exactly want to sleep here either," she responded with a little laugh. With surprisingly sober eyes, Kiba glanced back at the flashing lights and the silhouettes flailing about in the windows and doorway. With a grunt, he half-shrugged. Then his hazy brown eyes drifted to the person sitting next to her.

"Oh, hey man, you think Sakura could crash at your place then?" Kiba easily asked.

"Well, if she wouldn't mind," the stranger replied, his dark eyes focusing in on Sakura who flushed.

"Kiba!"

"Face it, Sakura. You're not staying here and I heard Temari yelling something about blindfolds when Shikamaru took her home. Get your butt out of here before Naruto starts puking," Kiba slurred just as Naruto let out a loud belch. Covering her nose with her hand, Sakura cringed.

"Oh man, Kiba-"

"Alright, Pukey. Let's get you to a bathroom. Later, Sak," Kiba sighed, dragging Naruto back inside. Sakura waved at her friends as they headed back inside, fading into the dancing bodies in the dim light.

"Looks like the rain's letting up a bit. Are you coming?" the man asked as he got to his feet too. Sakura peered down at his wallet and phone and then up into his faint smile. Smoke still curling faintly around him, he held out his hand to her. Casting one last glance back at the noisy house, Sakura scooped up her things in her left hand and took his offered fingers with her right. It was surprising how easily he pulled her up, as if she didn't weigh anything.

"We're going to have to run," he yelled over the sound of the rain just before they ran onto the straight. As icy water pelted them, Sakura was just barely aware of the fact that she was still holding his hand. They splashed through puddles and laughed over just how freezing they were. When they finally reached his beat-up sedan parked around the corner, Sakura's teeth were chattering. She threw herself into the passenger's sheet while he climbed in too and started the car.

"Man, it's freezing," she heard him mutter while fiddling with the console to turn the heater up to its highest setting. He rubbed his hands together once before he pulled onto the street. The windshield wipers worked furiously to swipe off the thick sheets of rain pummeling the car.

"I live with three other guys. But we live in a suite so I wouldn't worry too much about it," he casually mentioned when they stopped at a red light.

"The doors lock," he added when she was silent.

"Okay," Sakura simply replied, her eyes wide as she stared out at the watery streets. It almost looked like they were underwater. Everything looked thick and warped. Even the normally bright streetlights were muted through the rain. She recognized where they were. It was just off-campus, an area where most of the upperclassmen rented apartments. She wondered if he was a senior. It was hard to tell. It was hard to say anything really.

The inside of the car was old leather, worn and soft. It smelled a little like smoke inside, probably partly from him and partly from the seats too. There was a bobble head panda sitting on the dashboard, smiling and bouncing each time the car hit a pothole.

"I hope you don't mind taking the stairs. Our elevator broke last week," he explained as he pulled into a small parking lot behind an old brick building. The rain had eased up a little from its frantic tempo. Sakura groaned a little at the thought of going outside again. The car's heater had just started to warm her up a little. As if reading her mind, he slipped out of his seat and looped around to open the door for her. He held out his hand.

"I might have some hot chocolate inside," he offered. She pretended it was the lure of the hot chocolate that prompted her to put her hand in his. They ran again through the rain but this time she was so acutely aware of how strong his fingers felt. It was only up on the second floor that she realized how tightly she was squeezing his fingers. But he didn't say anything as he searched for his keys to unlock the door. When she loosened her grip a little, she caught him glance at her and quirk a little smile.

"I think the guys are all sleeping," he whispered before he carefully nudged the door open. It squeaked, making both of them wince. Slowly, they tiptoed inside to slip out of their squelching shoes as quietly as they could.

It was a typical guys' apartment. A little messy, a little stark. She saw a guitar case lying across the coffee table. Someone was sprawled out on the sofa next to the coffee table with a book laid on his face. There were cups scattered around him along with cans of discarded energy drinks. She eyed him with concern but then caught the rise and fall of his chest and decided that he most likely wasn't dead. Feeling a tug on her hand, she followed him deeper into the apartment where there were three doors. He pointed to one.

"Bathroom," he then pointed to the door to the right of it, "My room. I'll check if my roommate's sleeping." She reluctantly released his hand as he turned the knob to slip inside. The door was just open far enough for her to see too. There was a neatly-made bed pushed against the far wall and across from it was another bed with a mass curled up in a tangle of sheets and clothes. After some noise, Sakura watched him tiptoe back out with some clothes stacked neatly in his arms.

"Here. You can get changed in the bathroom. I'm guessing you don't feel comfortable showering," he whispered, handing them to her. When Sakura frantically shook her head, he gave her a light push to the door he had pointed out earlier.

Sakura made sure to lock the door behind her. It wasn't that she didn't trust her strange new friend. It was just weird being in his apartment changing her clothes. It was true that she sometimes crashed at Kiba's house but she was friends with everyone there and they all knew she would clobber them half to death if they even tried peeking. She wrung her hair out as best she could before she changed into the long-sleeved shirt and basketball shorts he had provided. The thick fabric of the shirt assured that she could ditch her wet bra without fear of poking someone's eye out. She briefly wondered if he was that considerate or he had just dug up whatever.

After some thought, she rolled her wet clothes up into a tight ball and then slipped out of the bathroom. She found him in the kitchen, barefoot. He had apparently changed too into sweatpants and a t-shirt. Just as she walked in, he was tying his hair back in a ponytail. It looked good on him.

"Just waiting for the water to boil. Are the clothes okay?" he said when he spotted her. Sakura nodded before she cast a worried glance at the person still splayed out on the couch. Following her line of sight, he rolled his eyes.

"That's my cousin. He doesn't even live here. And don't worry. He won't wake up even if you do this," he said in a more normal voice as he picked up a soccer ball sitting on the kitchen table. When he lobbed it at the figure, there was a loud grunt and a snort before his soft snoring resumed. Sakura tried to stifle her giggling with her hand but he still heard. He looked ready to say something else but the saucepan on the stove began bubbling, demanding his attention. She decided to sit instead of standing and looking like a complete idiot.

"Marshmallows?" he asked. She nodded without looking up. She had just remembered that he was still holding onto his wallet and phone. Glancing up, she found that his back was turned so she carefully peeked into the cards neatly stacked away in each slot. There were credit cards, a membership to a gym, and a reward card for the local coffee shop. She close her fingers around the edge of his driver's license just as he set her mug down right next to her hand and sat across the table from her.

"So you're not a rapist," Sakura suddenly said. He choked on his first mouthful of hot cocoa. She waited for him to stop coughing. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he stared at her.

"What?"

"You drove a slightly tipsy girl to your place? And you're not a rapist?" she clarified. He blinked a couple times.

"That's the conclusion you came to? Not that I'm just a kind stranger?" he demanded, still coughing just a little bit. Sakura rolled her eyes.

"Really? Single, young, woman living in a city?"

"Ah. I see your point," he conceded. He tapped his fingers against the sides of his mug. Sakura peered down at her drink, thinking.

"Um… well I'm honored that you don't think I'm a predator," he finally said. It sounded a little silly when he put it that way. Smiling apologetically, she lifted her mug to her mouth and took a sip. The warm cocoa tingled down to her stomach, warming up her chilled body.

Somehow, she started asking questions and he started answering. He was a biology major. He was a senior. He didn't like coffee but he liked hot chocolate. They talked for hours and hours about the most insignificant but significant things until she was practically falling asleep in the chair. But she was still conscious enough to tell him that she needed to be sleeping somewhere secure.

"Okay. You can take my bed. I thought my roommate would be out tonight but he'll be dead until at least noon so it should be okay," he explained as he got to his feet and lead her back to his room. Her eyes popped open.

"No," she said firmly, suddenly wide awake. He did manage to convince her to go in the room to see for herself that his roommate was indeed nearly comatose and showed no signs of waking enough after he shoved him with his foot a couple times. They argued in hushed tones for a bit before she, in what seemed to be a last slightly-tipsy decision, decided that she would be safe if he sat with her until she fell asleep.

(Later he asked what she had been thinking to make her come to that conclusion and she admitted that she had no idea.)

So she snuggled up in his clean-smelling sheets with him sitting on the floor next to her to quietly play games on his cell phone.

The next morning, Sakura stepped out of the car that still smelled strongly of cigarettes and onto the sidewalk in front of her dorm. She was still dressed in his clothes and a little hungover but that didn't stop her from thanking him for his help and giving him a little kiss on the cheek because he was some guy she would never meet again. Sakura ran back to the suite, glad to see that Temari's door was securely locked. She had once accidentally caught a glimpse of butt cheeks as she walked past. Whose butt it was Sakura didn't know and actually didn't want to know.

After some coffee and aspirin, she took a quick shower and headed off to class. Her first class was a large psychology lecture which meant that she could doze off a little without getting caught. Normally this was one of her favorite classes but she was just so exhausted and it couldn't hurt to doze off a little while she waited for the professor to set up the slideshow. People streamed into the lecture hall, filling up all the seats around her. Sakura felt a little nudge to her right.

"Is this seat taken?" someone asked. Not even opening her eyes, she moved her bag off the empty chair and began snoozing again. Before she could really start sleeping though, she heard a chuckle separate from the chatter around her. The smell of coffee filled her nose and her eyes snapped open just as a cup of coffee was placed in front of her. Something about the shape of the hand holding the cup was a little familiar. Before she could figure out what was happening, she heard the laugh again.

"You still have my driver's license."

"You're in my lecture," Sakura sighed as she looked over at her mysterious host from the night before. She accepted the cup with a sheepish smile.

"I'm Itachi. And yes. I've been sitting right behind you since the beginning of the semester," he said with a shrug.

"Creep," she muttered as she took a sip of coffee.

"A polite creep," he corrected her.

She didn't see much of a reason to disagree with him as she took another gulp of free coffee.


	19. Strangers

Sappy and sweet for those of you who waited. Midterms are finally over so I'll try be a little more productive.

* * *

><p><span>Strangers<span>

(suggested by Elimyyy and I3DisturbedD)

"You doing anything afterschool?"

Sakura peered over the top of the book when she heard a chair scrape across the floor. She scowled at Sasuke's bored expression watching her from the other side of the table. Without asking permission, he grabbed a handful of chips from her opened lunchbox. He didn't manage to get away before she punched him in the arm though.

"I bought a couple new albums yesterday. You want to come by and listen to them?" Sasuke asked between crunching bites. Drumming her fingers against the tabletop for a moment, she let her eyes drift around the crowded cafeteria.

"I guess. Not like I have anything better to do," Sakura agreed before she went back to reading.

After their 8th period history class, Sasuke waited around for Sakura to drop off her few books in her locker before they piled into his car and drove off to the Uchiha family's house. Despite Sasuke's eye-rolling and sighing, Sakura opened up the sunroof and blasted the music on the radio as they sped down the highway. Ten minutes later, they were pulling into a wide driveway. A black sedan was already parked on the left side.

"Huh. I didn't know he was home already," Sasuke muttered. The beep of his car locking echoed behind them as they made their way up the stone walkway.

"You hungry?" he asked as he opened the front door and kicked his shoes off in the foyer. Sakura followed after him, closing the door securely behind them. She was a little more careful with her shoes, lining them up at the side so nobody would trip over them. Putting her hands on Sasuke's shoulders, she cheerfully steered him to the kitchen.

"Starving," she replied. Sasuke sighed as he opened up the refrigerator. Sakura peered over his right shoulder to check the bounty inside. After a moment, he tossed her an apple before he wiped off a tomato on his shirt and took a giant bite. Sakura cringed.

"Gross," Sakura complained, jabbing him underneath the ribs. Sasuke glared at her around a mouthful of tomato as he chewed.

"Shut up," Sasuke grumped out while stomping up the stairs to his bedroom. Sakura skipped after him, chattering excitedly about a new band she had discovered the other day. As she followed Sasuke down the hall to his room, one of the doors swung open revealing a very shirtless and very attractive person.

"I thought you had soccer practice today," Sasuke said, bumping his fist against his brother's in greeting.

And Uchiha Itachi, 18, gorgeous and shirtless, looked straight over Sasuke's shoulder to look at her. Sakura wondered if she blushed hard enough, would her body actually combust? She found herself staring as he casually ran his towel along his neck while he spoke.

"Cancelled. The coach is sick," Itachi replied. Sasuke made a vague noise in the back of his throat. And they did what they always did, the odd Uchiha brothers who looked like they didn't get along but actually did, and they sort of nodded at each other before Itachi ducked back into his room and shut the door.

"I don't get it. How does he get home before me?" Sasuke muttered. From behind the closed door, Itachi replied in a muffled voice, "Because I'm better than you."

Sakura laughed at the sour expression on Sasuke's face. The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. The new albums Sasuke had picked up were surprisingly good. While the music played in the background, Sakura happily sprawled across the bed to do her homework. Sasuke glared half-heartedly before he retreated to his desk to do his own assignments for tomorrow. They occasionally looked up to ask a question about a physics problem or to comment about the current song. Around 5, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Oh, hi there, Sakura. I didn't know you were coming over," Mikoto greeted with a bright smile. Sakura looked up to wave at Sasuke's mother.

"Are you staying for dinner, dear?" Mikoto asked.

"No but thank you. I should be heading home soon," Sakura said, flexing her wrist to relieve some tension there. Sasuke sat down at the foot of the bed to throw a cushion at her face.

"Ignore her, mom. You know she's in love with your food," Sasuke snorted.

"Alright then. Sakura, do you think I could seduce you into staying if I make my famous beef stew?" Mikoto suggested. It went very quiet in the room for a moment. And then Sakura grabbed one of Sasuke's pillows, hugged it to her chest, and flopped back.

"You're the best," Sakura sang. Laughing, Mikoto closed the door and went downstairs. Sasuke poked her between the shoulder blades until she whined and twisted away from him.

"Hey."

"Shut up."

"Hey."

"What."

"Go get me a soda. I'm thirsty," Sasuke said. Without lifting her head, Sakura gave him the middle finger.

"Go or I'll tell Naruto who it was that dented his car last week." Sakura bolted upright.

"THAT WAS TOTALLY YOUR FAULT!" she yelled, swatting at him.

"You were the one driving," he said with a shrug.

"YOU COVERED MY EYES!" Sakura shouted in response. But the idea of Naruto's ceaseless howling when he figured out what had caused the little scratch on his car scared Sakura into motion. Growling death threats under her breath, Sakura slunk out of Sasuke's room and straight into a chest. Before she could fall on her butt, Itachi grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her. Blushing furiously, Sakura tried to forget the fact Sasuke's brother still hadn't bothered to put a shirt on. So they stood rather awkwardly, her eye-level with his nipples and him holding her against his bare chest. It was to this scene that Sasuke stuck his head out of his room to tell Sakura that he had changed his mind and now wanted tomato juice instead of cola. Sasuke stared at the spectacle in front of him and turned completely white.

"Don't go raping my friends," Sasuke growled as he grasped Sakura's wrist and pulled her back into his room.

Neither of them mentioned the incident again though Sakura always blushed whenever they happened to walk past Itachi at school. Their eyes would meet very briefly and he would smile before she quickly looked away. A few times they ended up next to each other on the lunch line. She wasn't sure but she felt like it wasn't necessary for him to stand so close to her. Not that she minded too much.

"Hey, what's wrong with you lately?" Sasuke asked one day as they sat on the hood of his car. Sakura scowled, finger twirling as she looked at him. But Sasuke was serious as he stared at her.

"Nothing. What's up your butt?" snorted Sakura with a shrug. Sasuke looked ready to grill her further until thunder rumbled through the air. As a bolt of lightning seared the sky, Sakura sighed.

"Do you have an umbrella?" they asked each other at the same time. Rolling her eyes, Sakura hopped off the hood and jabbed her thumb toward the front door.

"I'll go get one. The movie starts soon anyway," she offered. Running up the stone walkway, she let herself into the familiar house. If she remembered correctly, there was a vast collection of umbrellas in the hall closet. It was windy enough in the city that broken umbrellas were an almost expected occurrence. Pulling her messy bangs out of her eyes, Sakura toed her flats off and headed around the corner to the closet.

And she collided straight with a chest again. Feeling herself beginning to slip, Sakura grabbed onto the front of his shirt while he caught her around the waist. A hot blush bloomed through her cheeks as she heard his huff of laughter.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," he laughed. Not meeting his eyes, she relaxed her fingers and tried to take a step away. But he seemed completely happy holding on to her. It was only then that Sakura found the courage to look right at him. Itachi's dark hair was loose and damp. She could smell his shampoo when she took a deep breath. Thankfully this time he was wearing a shirt. She realized that she had probably been looking at him a little too long when he raised his eyebrows at her.

"Sakura, what are you doing? It's starting in half an hour," Sasuke called as the front door banged open.

Sakura didn't know why she suddenly panicked. But she grabbed a fistful of Itachi's shirt again and pulled him further around the corner into the living room so they wouldn't be visible from the door. They stood together in the archway, her fingers still gripping his shirt for dear life. Something glinted in his eyes as Sasuke's footsteps grew closer and closer until they could both see his shadow stretched out on the floor just by the corner.

"Hello? Sakura?" Sasuke said in a louder voice.

"Hush," Itachi murmured before he pushed them further along the hall until they bumped into the large bay window. The backs of her knees hit the wooden seat and her legs buckled, sending her sprawling across dark blue throw pillows. She clamped back the automatic squeal of protest when he ducked into the small hidden space behind billowing taupe curtains. Her back pressed to the wall, both hands clapped over her mouth when Itachi squeezed in to fit with her. Sakura folded her legs up to her chest to try to create more room but they were still very close together and he still smelled very much nice. Itachi's left hand planted against the wall over her head to stop him from squishing her completely, making the thin fabric of his shirt brush against the tip of her nose when he twisted around to peek past the curtain.

Itachi lifted his right arm to brush his bangs out of his eyes, knocking against her shoulder in the process.

'Sorry,' he mouthed before he looked down at her. Slowly, Sakura reached over to poke at the tiny hole visible at the bottom of his shirt. Eyes lifting, she found that he was smiling. So she felt her mouth curling up too. Suddenly his expression shifted. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against the wall until he was suddenly towering over her, body blocking out all the dim light from the window. When he wrapped his fingers around the digits still partially hiding her mouth, Sakura found that she didn't really mind. Itachi easily pushed her hand aside before his fingers tilted her chin up and he was hunching over to kiss her.

A tender touch that tasted faintly of chocolate. Or maybe that was just her imagination.

"Where the hell is this girl? Maybe she went to the bathroom," Sasuke interrupted as his feet stomped alarmingly close to them. Sakura's eyes snapped open and she lightly pushed against Itachi's chest. He pulled his mouth away just far enough that his lips tickled hers when he sighed loudly. To her horror, she could see him stretching his leg to let his foot dangle out past the curtain.

"Huh? What the-" grumbled Sasuke. When she heard shoes clearly stepping into the living room, Sakura gave Itachi a horrified stare. In response, Itachi only smirked and gave her a chaste peck.

"Itachi, is that you? What're you doing?" Sasuke demanded.

"I was taking a nap until you started blundering around. Does mom know you're wearing your dirty shoes around the house?" Itachi sighed, his words drawled and sleepy. When Sakura only continued to gape at him, he took a moment to wink.

"Whatever. You see Sakura around?" grunted Sasuke and Sakura could imagine his grimace even though she couldn't see him.

"Who? Oh. Yeah, I ran into her a minute ago. She said she needed to use the ladies room. I'm sure she'll be there in a bit," responded Itachi. And unexpectedly, he leaned in for another kiss. In response, Sakura chomped down on his bottom lip, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to get his attention. When she jerked her head in Sasuke's direction, Itachi just rolled his eyes.

"Geez. Fine. Tell her I'll be in the car if you see her," Sasuke finally said in an exasperated tone. Itachi made a vague noise in the back of his throat and Sasuke then marched off, muttering unhappily to himself. Sakura held her breath until they clearly heard the front door slam shut. Blowing out a breath that ruffled their hair, Sakura fixed Itachi with a disapproving glare.

"You better get going. Don't want Sasuke to get suspicious," Itachi chuckled, running his fingers through the hair falling across her forehead. When he moved in for another kiss, she quickly turned her head so all his lips made contact with was her cheek.

Something odd tingled on the back of her neck. So Sakura looked out the window and saw Sasuke frozen on the walkway, his jaw hanging slack and key hovering awkwardly in the air. Flushing bright red, Sakura pointed until Itachi looked and met his brother's shocked expression with a sly smile.

"Or we could tell him to leave and you could stay with me instead," he suggested in response to her silence. Still blushing, Sakura lightly pushed him away and squeezed past him until she was standing on the living room floor again. Itachi caught her wrist before she could turn to go.

"I'll get your number from Sasuke. Enjoy the movie," Itachi said before releasing her with a flourish. Scowling against the fresh flood of crimson blooming in her cheeks, she ran into the hall to grab an umbrella before speeding outside. Hooking her arm through Sasuke's, she dragged him to the car and let out a huge breath. As the first clear droplets began falling on the windshield, Sasuke stared straight ahead, hands locked onto the steering wheel at 10 and 2.

"Do I even want to know?" asked Sasuke after a very long time.

"Just drive," groaned Sakura as she sunk low in her seat.

The next week, Sakura trudged out of Spanish class to her locker. The dial spun easily under her fingers and she opened the metal door to dump her textbooks inside. It was finally the end of the day and she couldn't wait to go home. As she stood trying to remember what her homework was for the night, someone walked up to her right and leaned against the lockers. Feigning disinterest, Sakura took her time loading notebooks and texts into her bag before she slowly looked up. Arms crossed over his chest, Itachi stood watching her.

"You doing anything today?" he inquired.

"Maybe," Sakura said before she shut her locker and twisted the dial once.

As she strode down the hall, she glanced over her shoulder at him. Raising his eyebrows, Itachi pushed off the locker to catch up with her.

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><p>Thanks for reading. Be sure to review with thoughts and new prompts please!<p> 


	20. Echoes

Echoes

(suggested by Katarin Kishika)

"I see blue."

"Water?"

"Lots of water. Stretching far out until it meets the sky in the distance."

There was a pause. Pen scratched across the thin paper.

"Can you tell me anything else about this body of water?"

A slight moment of hesitation- and then she dipped her brush, swirling it around and around until the clear liquid turned a muddy shade of brownish-grey. The wood handle clanked against the sides of the glass each time she twirled her fingers. Finally, smashing the bristles against the bottom, she lifted her gaze to him in a hard stare.

"Is that because you don't remember or because you want to hear me say it?"

Cracking a smile, he set his notepad and pen down and leaned back in his chair.

"Mostly because I like hearing you say it yourself," he admitted rather shamelessly. A frown pulled down at her mouth as she turned back to her easel. She swirled the bristles into dark blue paint, dabbing back and forth from the paint to the water until she was satisfied. The swish of the brush across the canvas scratched into the silence for a while. He tapped his finger against the armrest a couple times.

"Last time was like this too," he suddenly remarked. Her eyes didn't leave her work.

"Last time I drowned," was her soft reply.

"It was quite some time ago. You were mad at me then too," he continued.

"I'm always mad at you," she corrected.

"Not always," he responded half-under his breath. For a moment, her eyes drifted from the canvas over to him.

"But I'm mad at you now."

In the strange stillness that returned, she turned her attention to her art again. He picked his pen back up, twirling it between his fingers as he watched the rise and fall of her left arm with each stroke across the paper. When she took a moment to dab the brush in more paint, his right eyebrow dipped down. A wrinkle appeared in his forehead.

"You're not left-handed." His words came out in an accusation.

"I'm not," she calmly agreed without looking at him. He waited another moment and then a heavy sigh left him.

"Do you remember how we first met?" he inquired. One leg crossed over the other, he watched her with a knowing smile. It was only then that she set her brush down to look him in the eyes.

"Of course I do. You bought me." There was a slight bite to her words. Her smile was a little too toothy.

"Of course not. What a horrible first date that would be. You really don't remember? Anything before that?" he urged her. A hum left her as she thought for a while. Her eyes darted from her hands to the canvas several times as she thought. Finally, she raised her eyebrows.

"I don't exactly want to recall something that unpleasant. But whether or not I remember, you're going to tell me the story," she surmised. Gesturing for him to speak, she sunk down in her chair, pulling her knees up to her chest. It took a moment. He rolled the pen between his thumb and pointer finger as he gathered his thoughts.

"I was a murderer," he said. Her neutral expression didn't change.

"I was 19. You were 16. Do you remember?"

"I remember you having that ridiculous ponytail", she admitted with a faint smile.

"I was the person that had slaughtered my clan. My brother was chasing after me. And you were chasing after my brother. What must you have thought of me? I was a soulless being cruel enough to massacre the very people who had given birth to me. How you must have hated me for tormenting my brother for all those years. We didn't even meet that time. You knew my name, I knew yours. We might have killed each other on sight. But we didn't. I died long before you did. I don't even know what became of you."

"The war ended. I married some guy. I got old. I died", she listed with a shrug. He gave her a pointed look until she grumped out, "Fine. I won't interrupt."

"The next time, you were the only child of a powerful Shogun. Instead of training to take your father's place, you insisted on becoming a doctor. I had just moved from Kyoto for some position as a government official. It was hard not to notice you. If it wasn't the rumors, it was that ridiculous pink hair. It was short then, too," he trailed off with a wistful expression. At this point, she stretched her legs out to rest her feet on an empty chair. With a slightly smug expression, she nudged his knee with her left foot.

"Well, I **was** a boy. And you're wrong. That's not the second time we met," she interrupted eagerly. Clearly puzzled, he sat thinking for a long time. And she, uncharacteristically patient, waited until he turned to her with the same confused look.

"It was exactly 25 years before. I was the daughter of a poor rice farmer. You were the eldest son of a wealthy merchant. I pined after you until I got cholera." His face pinched into a frown. After some consideration, she spoke again.

"You still had that stupid ponytail then too," she added. Ignoring his glare, she motioned for him to continue.

"Alright. Shinobi, merchant, **and then** official," he amended a little grudgingly. For some reason, he stopped talking. They watched each other a little warily.

"That one was strange. You being… male… was just…confusing…" his words faded. She rubbed at her chin with a distant expression.

"It was after that time that you bought me, right? It was the late Meiji period. I remember that one clearly," she supplied when he didn't talk for a bit. This time, her words weren't at all bitter.

"What was I then? That doesn't even matter. You hated me until the day I died," he said mostly to himself. She bit back the beginnings of a smile.

"I was making a pretty good living as a courtesan. I might've made it to the daimyo if you hadn't made me retire. I hated being a mistress," she told him. His eyes drifted to her. They took a little too long to focus until she knew that he was actually seeing her instead of just staring at a random spot that happened to be her face.

"Your wife was too pretty. She made me jealous," she added after another moment.

"You ran away from me for quite some time after that. I think you even stabbed me once," he chuckled quietly. She leveled him with a flat stare.

"You were a samurai. I was a spy. How else was I supposed to escape?" she sniffed.

"I don't know. I think a kiss would have worked just as well," was his response. She shoved his leg with her foot again. But even as she rolled her eyes, she was smiling too.

"What else was there?" he asked. They both sat thinking again.

"I think we were royalty once," she said a little unsurely. Their eyes met and his eyebrows lifted.

"And like I said, you were a painter once before," he reminded her, gesturing to her canvas. Her gaze flickered to it for an instant before her expression darkened.

"Yeah. Not in a mental institution, though."

"And there was that time you were a blind … Imagine how much you didn't want to see my face that you were blind," he remarked. She kicked him this time. It wasn't a push. He winced from the force of her blow.

"Well there was that one time you had a drunken one-night stand with me and left before I woke up," she countered.

"I was late for work. And there were no cell phones back then!" he rebutted.

"It was the 1920's! In Alabama!" she shot right back.

"Well maybe it was payback for that time you married my best friend when you **knew** I loved you?" he sighed. She threw her hands up in the air.

"That was over 100 years ago! When will you let that go?" she groaned. Then, scowling even harder, she added, "Besides, he proposed. You didn't even have the courage to say anything to me."

Stuck in a rather cross stalemate, they stared each other down until her expression softened just a little.

"If it's any consolation, it wasn't a very satisfying relationship. There's a reason we adopted his brother's son," she grumbled.

"We would've been drowning in brats if you would've just turned him down."

She didn't reply.

"What happened last time?" was what she inquired instead. He breathed in and then exhaled heavily.

"Let's see. You were murdered by a serial killer. I don't think we'd even had our third date yet," he told her. Lips puckering together, she rubbed at her throat.

"Did I get choked?" she asked in a small voice. The phantom pain that sometimes clenched her windpipe started to make sense now. His fingers dug into the shiny leather of the armrest.

"Asphyxiated. And then he dumped you in the ocean," he ground out.

"I told you. Blue stretching far out until it meets the sky in the distance," was her response. Even though she was smiling, her fingers curled protectively around her neck.

They stared at each other.

His pen started jumping nervously in his hand again.

"So what happens now?" was the only thing he could think to say.

"The same as always, I guess. We meet, we fall in love, and it all goes to hell," she said with a slight shrug. His face scrunched up.

"Is that how it always happens?"

"I don't know. You tell me, **Doctor**," she said with a smirk, twisting the easel to face him with a nudge of her elbow when the door creaked open. In walked two burly men dressed in white.

"Session's up, Doc. It's time for group therapy," one of them said while the other helped her out of the chair.

"Yes, of course. That's all. I'll see you on Thursday."

As they turned to guide the small woman in her light green pajamas, he pinched his eyes shut.

"Oh. One more thing," he said.

The footsteps stopped.

"Try not to die before me this time, Sakura."

It was quiet for a long stretch before he could hear the laugh in her voice.

"If you make sure that ponytail never comes back, Itachi."

And then she was gone, taken by the slow trudge of the orderlies. Opening his eyes, he turned the abandoned easel further towards him to look at what she had been painting so diligently. It was the same thing over and over again, the same words written in darkening shades of blue.

_I loved you_.


	21. Mittens

Mitten(s)

(suggested by Iforgotit)

The shriek of bus wheels grinding.

Something like a hissing sigh slipped past her lips. Tugging at the scarf wound around her throat, she pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and turned her attention back to the road ahead. The bus ground to a halt and everyone lurched forward a little. She clenched her fingers around the pole and she could feel the coldness of the metal even through the soft cashmere. With a hiss of its own, the bus doors swung shut and the vehicle rumbled forward again. The air smelled damp and sickly. It took too long for her to realize that the smell was coming from her.

"Excuse me, Miss. Do you know what time it is?" an old man asked in front of her. Lifting her head, she regarded his hunched form bent over a cane, one feeble hand gripping onto a pole. The veins twisted up the back of his gnarled hand and the soft tufts of barely-there white on the top of his head made her chest tighten uncomfortably. She tugged the edge of her sleeve up to reveal her shining watch face. Silver hands ticked slowly around the round disk.

"7:47," she responded. Bowing his shining head, he said a soft "thank you". She turned away and then paused before glancing back again. Eyes darted to the faint trembling of his hands. The bus hit a bump and his brittle frame jolted. Gnawing on her lower lip, she redirected her gaze to the others on the bus. She skimmed over the aged faces sinking softly into their wrinkled folds. Staring down at her leg, she let out a long breath and then stood. Sensations sharp and angry lanced up through her right leg that she stubbornly ignored. She gestured to the vacated seat with a forced smile. The tightness in her calf screamed at her to stop.

"Thank you, Miss," the old man sighed as he sunk into the spot. The noise of his contented exhalation was oddly soothing. Even with her right leg filling with a sharp pain like a million needles and her hands aching against the chill, she stared straight ahead, determined not to let the discomfort show. Her patience was stretched thin but it lasted for the two next stops until the bus lurched to a halt in front of a large white building. Stepping onto the curb, she tugged her collar up again and then swept her gaze around. No one met her stare.

Craning her neck, she checked the street sign. This was the right corner. This was where she needed to be. It was the place in front of the little corner bakery that always sent out warm waves of cinnamon and sweet glaze as the door opened and closed. The little bell attached to the glass whispered. And because there was nowhere else to look, she watched the figure stepping out of the small shop.

"Do you need help?" he asked.

Pushing her curling hair out of her eyes, she glanced up at him through a thick fan of uncolored eyelashes- so light pink that they were almost white. Clumping spider webs to shield her eyes from the gray sun.

Thin wrists with the subtle jut of bones under the flesh. The tangled network of blue running under the surface ran up until the fur-trimmed sleeve of his jacket sheltered them again. A bright red scarf stood against the white and black canvas of him.

"I'm waiting for someone," she uttered when their gazes locked. His expression almost seemed bored as he looked her over. Then, his mouth curling down into a slight frown, he dipped his head in what almost looked like a bow- maybe a nod. Her lips parted as she began to say something further.

A hand on her shoulder jolted her. Spindly fingers stained on the tips with dark ink like blood. Swallowing hard, she twisted her head to meet the tired smile.

"I'm sorry," her boyfriend said. There was no point in saying "it's okay" because he wouldn't hear her anyway.

"Time got away from me," he explained. The bitter words "like always" burned on the tip of her tongue. She washed them down with another hard gulp to twist a smile onto her lips.

"Let's go. And thank you," she said as she looked again at the other man. Though he didn't reply, his eyes followed her as she took the offered arm and started off down the sidewalk. She laid her soft mitten against the wrinkled brown of his sleeve. Her boyfriend's strides were too long. They made her feet hurt as she struggled to keep up. But his eyes were always looking straight ahead and he never seemed to be getting anywhere fast enough.

"How've you been?" she inquired once they paused at a red light. But she could feel his feet itching to scuff across the crumbling asphalt.

"Working," he assured her. Lips twisting into a pout, she casted a sidelong glance at the side of his unshaven face.

"Did I miss anything?" she asked this time. Expression unchanging, he shook his head.

"I don't think so," he replied. She half-regretted glancing away from him as she muttered "Of course."

And they walked away from each other in silence after that, eyes faintly drifting back to catch one last glimpse of the other's back. A sudden gust of wind blew a speck of dust into her eye. She squeezed it shut to rub out the pain.

**Her eyelashes moved.**

The next time they met, her long hair, twisted into a messy braid down her back, was soaking wet. The bright red and white carnations woven in with the strands glistened as droplets of water scattered off the petals. Pink hair almost glowing almost gold in the sunlight, she skidded to a halt just before she collided with the high stone wall. Cheeks tinted bright red and wide eyes blazing, she took a moment to catch her breath as she stared at him. He, who had spent the better part of the afternoon sprawled over the wall and basking lazily at the sun, looked right back at her without speaking.

"Hey!" a voice called. For an instant, they stared at each other.

"Where'd you go?"

He held out his hand to her. Without thinking, she laced her fingers with his and he pulled her up.

They ran.

The heat from his palm warmed hers even through the cotton gloves she wore. With the sidewalk flying away underneath their feet, they made it a few blocks before he pulled them around the corner, out of sight of their pursuers.

"What're we running from anyway?" he whispered but she held up her finger, pressing it to his lips. Drawing in a deep breath, she slowly peeked past the wall. Only when the alley proved clear did she exhale again. Their eyes met and she let out a long sigh.

"My responsibilities," she finally explained as she began tugging the flowers out of her hair.

"Why?" he queried. His eyes followed the drooping petals spilling from between the plaits of her braid.

"I think I might get sick if I stay in that place for too long."

There was a pause. Then he shrugged.

"Oh," was his response.

They crouched in the alley looking around for a while before they spoke again.

"I'm Sakura, by the way," she added.

"I'm Itachi."

She followed him, wandering through the crooked streets where old fire escapes and laundry lines stretched across the sky, making strange shadows across the pavement. And like an alley cat, he easily hopped up onto low walls and leapt over boxes left out on the curb. The fragrance of sun-warmed garbage and garlic from Chinese food restaurants permeated the air. Wrinkling her nose against the peculiar stench, she watched him lithely hop from place to place.

"Where are we going?" she thought to inquire. But he shrugged.

"Anywhere," he told her.

They meandered through the city together, her eyes wide with wonder. She followed his movements with the untainted innocence of a child. Sometimes her gaze wandered to the strange scar running down his forearm the same way his eyes flitted curiously to her white gloves. He noticed the queer expression that crossed her face when the weight fell too hard on her right leg. In fact, there was a slight limp to her gait. But he didn't say anything.

"Are you hungry?" he asked after a while. Not waiting for her answer, he began to lead them out of the complex maze of back allies they had been wandering. They emerged on a busy street lined with bustling restaurants and a varied scattering of stores. She sucked in a deep breath, eyes widening at all the chaos before her.

"What're you in the mood for?" he asked while taking her hand. She stared at their joined fingers and then up at his serious expression.

"Anything," she responded. The passing clouds finally drifted past and light spilled out from the sky. Closing her eyes against the sudden brightness, she laughed.

**That was a blink too.**

And then suddenly, the sunlight was gone. Sucking in a panicked gulp of air, her eyes flew open. She frantically searched the emptiness. Everything was such a cold shade of white that it burned her corneas. Fingers clenching and unclenching, she searched desperately for the warm hand guiding hers. But all she could find was the brittle lump of her boyfriend who slept huddled under the covers beside her. The touch of his arm against hers was air.

"Help me," she whimpered. The stench of oil paints clogged the air, jamming itself into her mouth, curling up into her throat until there was no room to breathe at all. She prayed for the colors that had been torn so cruelly from her.

**She closed her eyes.**

Sucking in a deep breath, she opened her eyes again to a hazy shade of brown. It took a second for things to come into focus but then she recognized the lazy blur of a ceiling fan spinning. She heard the tinkle of ice in a glass cup. Somehow, she had never seen this ceiling before but it didn't feel all that alien to her. She slowly pulled herself into a sitting position.

It was a living room. She was on a worn sofa with a jacket balled up in the corner that had served as a pillow. The television was on- its volume turned down so only a vague hum of voices was audible. She tilted her head to look at the magazines scattered on the coffee table. She heard the loud suction of a refrigerator door opening. Turning her head toward the noise, she saw that there was a kitchen to the right of the living room. The only thing separating them was a half-wall covered with photographs.

"What time is it?" she asked. She surprised herself. She wasn't afraid. It was the man from before with his half-hooded eyes and the jagged mark down his right arm. She wanted to touch that mark, for some reason- the stretch of the shiny, healed skin creaking across the jagged ridge in his flesh. Pulling a bottle of beer out of the fridge, he shut the door and then turned to look at her.

"Almost 2. You slept through the end of the movie," he told her with a half-smile. Her eyes followed his hands as they popped the top off the beer. He tilted his head back as he took a swig.

"In the morning?" she asked. He nodded slowly.

"I'd better get back," she said.

He was shirtless, she noticed, as he took another sip. Following his scar, she watched him set the bottle down on the counter. There was a faint line of white running down his breastbone. It almost looked like a hidden seam, that if she pushed the right keys or said the right words, doors would slide open to reveal the gleaming white of his bones against the pulsating crimson of his lungs. Exhaling, she blinked. When she saw again, he was holding up his right hand.

"What happened here?" he inquired. It took a second to process that he was referring to her gloves. Mouth curling into a flat smile, she placed her left palm on her right forearm.

"You first," she countered.

They smiled uncomfortably at each other and listened to the lid shut on that particular set of questions.

"I'll walk you home." Dumping the rest of his beer out in the sink, he disappeared through a door.

**She blinked.**

"Hey. We got anything to eat?"

She was staring at the broad lines of her boyfriend's shoulders through his ratty, paint-stained t-shirt. He stood in front of the gleaming silver refrigerator. His shadow crept across the floor, barely touching the edge of the mattress. Long hair, uncombed and black fell across his back.

"There's some eggs," she groaned while rolling onto her back. The apartment reeked of cigarettes. The ashtray on the nightstand overflowed with a crusty mountain of burnt offerings. He always left the air conditioner on too high. Goosebumps rose across her chest and shoulders. Yanking the blue sheets up to her chin, she curled her hands into fists.

"You want anything?" he offered her. Eyes squeezing shut, she imagined his fingers dripping with paint, the colors mixing into scrambled eggs. Bacon dyed acid-green, coffee dark purple. Cigarette ash sprinkled on top of her toast with melting butter.

"No."

She parted her lips in a soundless scream.

**Her eyes opened again. **

The rotating fan blades and the high-pitched ring of a cell phone greeted her. The scar with its dark pink splash appeared in front of her. It hovered there so she studied the point of his elbow. There was the trail of his veins again, so vibrant blue that it was like there was no skin at all. She reached up to grasp his forearm with both her hands. His face appeared over his arm, mouth softly curving into a lazy smile. Reaching with his other hand, he grasped the cell phone on the arm of the sofa.

"Hold on," he said to her.

Eyes wide with wonder, she watched his long fingers slide across the glowing screen before he raised the phone to his ear.

"Yeah?"

As he spoke, he sunk down beside her. The murmur of his voice faded into the background. She pressed her forearm against his- just to see her whole skin against the reddened gouge of his scar. It was nearly the size of her palm, sharp and demanding her attention. His eyes fell on her, curiosity clear in his expression. When she wordlessly pointed at it, he only responded by pointing at her gloved hands.

**Blinked.**

"Hey, let me paint you again," the boyfriend said. He was lying on his back on the floor. Pulling her left sock on, she laughed.

"What? No way!" she giggled. Pressing his palm to her thigh, he pulled himself up. The back of his sweater rode up to flash the curve of his hip bone. One hand wiped across his face, catching against the rough stubble above his lip.

"Come on." He pulled her in for a kiss and her fingers curled tightly into the bottom of his shirt, as if to tether him there to that place forever. When he nuzzled his cheek against her throat, the scratchiness almost hurt her. It was just enough pain for her to like it.

**There. She blinked again.**

"What do you do for a living anyway?" she asked as she fanned herself furiously with some junk mail left on the kitchen table.

"I used to do what I liked. Now I give kids piano lessons," he admitted. With his back pressed against the front door, he watched her cross one leg over the other. One sandal dangled off her foot. The other lay abandoned on the checkered linoleum. From outside, a car honked loudly, the blare ringing through the intersection. Pursing her lips, she tilted her head to look at him.

"What you liked?" she repeated. But he gave her that smile again, the fragile one that had broken and was taped back together until it was just recognizable. That expression always pierced her straight between the ribs. But it was a good kind of hurt. Her eyes were drawn to his scar again. He always looked cold for some reason. His t-shirts hung loosely on him, like someone had grabbed him and pulled him like a piece of taffy. But he ran his graceful fingers through his hair and then everything was okay again.

"Yeah. I was too good. People didn't like it."

**Can't you see her blinking?**

"Hey, isn't this apartment nice?" she inquired, poking him in the thigh with her toes. With a whispering groan, her boyfriend lifted his head from the soft cradle between her breasts. Sleep-mussed hair falling into his eyes, he yawned at her.

"It better be. We sunk all our savings into this place," he murmured. Lowering his head again, he pressed a kiss between her collar bones. They listened to the hum of the city outside the windows. She let out a contented sigh, stretching her arms over her head.

"Do you like it here? I like it here," she suddenly queried. Mouth stretching in another yawn, he nodded sluggishly.

"Do you think we're soul mates?"

This time, he raised himself on his elbows to stare at her. The glow of the streetlight outside the window bathed them in orange. Half his face was masked in darkness but the other half revealed a pondering expression. The prickly shadow of his eyelashes fanned across the top of his cheek as he peered up at her.

"I think we are." He said it so easily.

"Me too."

He kissed her and they lay tangled in each other's arms until the hot summer sun blazing through the blinds coaxed them awake.

**Are you waking up?**

"You know, you should seriously consider investing in an air conditioner. Or real food," she commented as she stood at the fridge. Fanning herself with one hand, she struggled to gather up her hair away from the back of her sticky neck. He dropped his glass in the sink and stood behind her to stare at the bottles of beer and the one jar of strawberry jelly sitting inside. Pressing his chin to her shoulder, he shrugged.

"We could order take-out," he offered.

"We could," she agreed.

But then they shut the door and sprawled out on the floor of living room passing a single warm beer between them. The apartment was filled with bitter smell of cigarettes but she didn't mind because she never saw him light one up in front of her.

**Can you hear me?**

"Hi! I'm home!" was the way she always announced herself when she got home. The windows were opened, as usual. It was starting to get warmer now and she could practically taste summer in the air. Dumping her purse on the sofa, she poked her head into the bedroom where she found her boyfriend sprawled the wrong way across the bed. With charcoal staining his hands, his head was tucked under his right arm. At her footsteps, his left hand rose in lazy greeting.

"How was work?" he asked in a voice muffled by the mattress. Careful not to disturb him too much, she sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the thick sketchbook sitting next to him. She stared at the thick lines etched into the paper. There were eyes, disjointed smiles, like body parts floating in jars. Here and there she saw pieces of people, various poses and figures frozen in the middle of the day. The gentle curve of someone's neck filled up one of the pages by itself.

"These are really good," she commented as she continued to flip through.

"You know, I think you should get back into this stuff," she declared after a bit. He turned his head to look at her, brown eyes staring over the curve of his arm.

"…Maybe you're right."

**Blinking again.**

"So I was thinking…" he drifted off and she found her eyes drawn to him. Legs swinging back and forth, she was seated on the kitchen counter. Though her hands were busy peeling a sweet orange, what she really craved in this heat was some ice cream. Or maybe a nice smoothie.

"Can I paint you?"

Head tilting to one side, she considered this. He sat on the arm of the sofa, back hunched and fingers twisted together. There was a sort of mad gleam in his eyes as he watched her. Something brilliantly sharp and alien glimmered there. She pretended to be really thinking about this. But that was a lie.

She had said yes from the first time she had taken his hand.

"…Only if you promise to buy an air conditioner. I hate sweating."

**This can't be a mistake. She's smiling.**

It was all very sudden.

Being twisted back and forth between these times. The balmy blaze of the summer and the soft warmth of spring. She was standing in a place where there was everything and nothing. The memories twisted together in a chaotic web, twisting and breaking until it was hard to really remember what started where.

"Are you happy now?" she heard her boyfriend ask.

Turning around, she saw the two of them standing side by side. Her boyfriend with his paint-flecked shirts and the jeans with the hole in the knee she hated so much. There were weary lines on his face, lines that she didn't really remember. Or maybe she had been the one to put them there.

And next to him was the other one, eyes glittering with fresh ideas and his smiles easy. The fragile lines of his arms and face made her chest ache whenever she saw him. But there was something untouchable about him, the way that he looked ready to fly off into the sky at the slightest breeze. And he was watching her now with those dark eyes so intense that it was almost intimidating to meet his gaze.

"You never did tell me what was up with these," he said, raising his hands in front of him. She stared down at herself, at the fingers encased in the soft cotton gloves. Because part of her knew exactly what she would find underneath that gentle layer. But the other part of her refused to know. It was a word on the tip of the tongue- the knowledge there but gone all at once.

"Do I have to look?" she asked both of them or neither of them. Her boyfriend gave her a wan smile.

"No. You need to wake up," her boyfriend responded.

She stared at them both now.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Because as she watched, they were taking steps toward each other, hands extending for a firm shake. But their palms touched and flesh melted into flesh- the past blurring into what was now. She watched the delicate boy's face change, watched his delicate spider's limbs thicken. There were the things she had stolen from him, taken his beautiful smile and his childish dreams and kept them locked away in her heart so he couldn't have them anymore. And the worst part of it was that his clear gaze remained the same.

Itachi smiled at her.

"**It's time to wake up, Sakura. I can see you blinking."**

"Tragic, really. A freak accident."

"She reacted badly to anesthesia. She was asleep for a month."

"It's a shame. So young."

The nurses whispered behind their clipboards like that would make their voices silent. That didn't matter really. Sakura sat propped up in her bed, her vacant stare aimed out the window.

It had been two days since she had woken. The doctor called it a miracle, saying that he was on the verge of declaring her officially brain dead. Who was really the brain dead one then?

She had been hit by a drunk driver. The moron had smashed his truck straight into her. At least he had gotten what he deserved, guts spilled along the street, garnished with scraps of metal from the barrier he had destroyed. The broken leg set with pins and the nine stitches up her side didn't bother her so much though. It was her hands bound in thick bandages. The nurses jokingly called them her mittens but that only made it worse.

"We managed to save all of your fingers. There will be some scarring and you'll need physical therapy."

Under the harsh fluorescent lights, she stared out the window until the image of the barren trees outside was seared firmly into her brain. It took another day for her door to open without a falsely cheerful nurse bursting in to chatter needlessly.

"They had to rebuild my breastbone and two of my ribs. Lost a solid chunk of my arm too," Itachi told her as he sat down on the plastic chair next to her bed. She couldn't look at him.

The last words she had said to him were unbearably cruel: "I feel like I'm going insane. I can't breathe with you around."

He lifted his hand to brush his bangs out of his eyes. A flash of pink. Eyebrows knitting together, she finally turned to look at him. With shaking hands, she carefully grasped his arm, slowly rotating the appendage until she could see the jagged marking stretched along the pale flesh. The puckered, tight skin.

"Did you have a dream? I had one," Sakura softy said. He froze, fingers still twisted into his hair. She kept her eyes fixed on the puckered skin still tender and vulnerable. Pressing her forearm against his to compare, she marveled at the flowing network of tangled blue pulsating under the paper-thin surface. Their arms trembled but she didn't know if he was the one shaking or if it was her.

"Hey…do you…do you think we're soul mates?" she choked out in a whisper.

His left hand pressed to the back of her head, nudging it forward until their foreheads were touching. The bittersweet smell of rubbing alcohol, the smell of dying and death clung to both of them. Tears welled up in her eyes until she couldn't see him. Just a watery world without clear colors, where black and white and blue bled together into nothing.

"I think we are," uttered Itachi.

Sobbing like a child, she pressed her free hand to the raised scar running down his beautiful chest until she was sure that there were no more tears left inside either of them.

Two weeks later, they released her from the hospital. Her right leg was still wobbly at best but the brace that they had fitted around her knee made things easier. Itachi had been checked out days ago.

But that was alright. She had been the one to shield him. That was the way things were meant to be anyway.

They had sold the car a long time ago and she didn't feel like shelling out $30 just to get home. So she got on the bus- papery green hospital gown underneath her thick black coat. Feet were jammed into boots that didn't fit quite as well with her swollen feet. The cold plastic seat hurt, and not in a really good way either. The nauseating sway of the bus as it jerked to a halt and rounded corners was enough to make her head spin. She let out a deep sigh to calm herself.

"Excuse me, Miss. Do you know what time it is?"

"7:47," she told the old man without looking at him.

This time, when she got off the bus, Itachi waved at her from the inside the little corner bakery that always sent out warm waves of cinnamon and sweet glaze as the door opened and closed. The little bell attached to the glass whispered. As her feet hit the pavement, he stepped outside, holding out a still-steaming cinnamon bun to her. The sticky glaze glistened.

"I'm sorry. They were out of those scones you like," her boyfriend said. There was no point in saying "it's okay" because she didn't mind anyway. Her stare drifted to the dried paint specked across his palms.

"I wanted to paint you something before you got home. Time got away from me," he explained. The fond words "like always" bounced off the tip of her tongue. For an instant he looked unhappy but then she softened her comment with a smile. The lines in his forehead smoothed out again.

"Let's go. And thank you," she said. Though he didn't reply, his eyes followed her as she took his offered arm and started off down the sidewalk. She laid her soft mitten against the wrinkled brown of his sleeve. Her boyfriend's strides were too long. They made her feet hurt as she struggled to keep up. But his eyes were always looking straight ahead and he never seemed to be getting anywhere fast enough.

"Itachi," Sakura called. His gaze darted to her, jolting and panicked for an instant.

"Slow down," she urged as she pointed to her right leg with the cinnamon bun. Guilt puckered his brow. Looking around, he seemed to be trying to figure something out before he finally crouched down on the sidewalk in front of her. His fingers wiggled out behind him in a familiar gesture. Seated on his back, she let him carry her home. The warmth of his hands on her bare legs felt nice.

"How've you been?" she inquired once they paused at a red light. But she could feel his feet itching to scuff across the crumbling asphalt. When he glanced back at her, she held the cinnamon bun up to his lips for him to take a bite.

"Lonely," he assured her. Lips twisting into a pout, she casted a sidelong glance at the side of his unshaven face while he chewed.

"Did I miss anything?" she asked this time before taking a bite of the bun herself. Expression thoughtful, he shook his head.

"I don't think so," he replied. She watched his expression as she teased, "Of course."

And he walked along with her in silence after that. On a strange whim, Sakura felt her eyes faintly drifting back to catch one last glimpse of the bakery on that corner. A sudden gust of wind blew a speck of dust into her eye. She squeezed it shut to rub out the pain but she was certain she had seen someone waving at her- with those tiny, fragile wrists and his almost-whole smile.


	22. Revival

Revival

(suggested by lanoirpapillion)

He held her to him. Hands pressed against the dip in her back where the curve of her ribs met. Her finger skimmed the swell of his bicep. It was to watch the twitch of muscles underneath the skin stretched so tight.

Squint, she thought, until the pores and the tiny freckles swallow me.

Ear pressed to him, she listened to the sluggish beat of his heart. Inside a thin chest. So thin that the murmur of his pulse called her name sweetly in her sleep.

* * *

><p>Maybe his strangeness didn't scare her because of that first meeting.<p>

An all-encompassing heat. It was a desperate hunger that ached so vividly that spots of black danced across her vision as she struggled to orient herself. Where was she? And then, another, more pressing question came to mind. Who was she?

With these frantic thoughts spilling through her head, she almost didn't notice when a hand rested on her cheek. A finger pressed against her lower lip, slowly dragging across as her eyes swiveled to focus on it. Nails painted black. A gentle touch. But not the hands of a woman. Those fingers were narrow and tapered, but not quite frail enough to be those of a woman. The pressure increased, the thumb pressing harder, forcing her lips apart. Half-hearted protest gurgled up before she felt something honeyed and richly tangy sweep across her tongue.

Ravenous. Deaf and half-blind, she grabbed onto the hand, sucking greedily at the red droplets. It was so sweet that it almost made her retch. But the tiny bit that squeezed out was nowhere near enough. Thunder was in her ears as she pushed the hand aside. The loud throbbing continued until nothing but that pain could fit in her skull. A crazed drumbeat in her head whispered the desperate word _where_.

Huge eyes darting around, she sucked in a deep breath through her nose. But then, her gaze fixated on the spot where the pulsating throbbed loudest. Licking her dry lips, she lunged.

Pain pierced in her mouth for a moment as she felt something forcing its way through soft gums. But it didn't stop her. A snarl ripped free from her. She grabbed and then felt the luscious pierce of the soft, yielding flesh under her teeth. Greedy gulps poured down her throat. Her fingers twisted into the fabric of the shirt, pulling the source of delicious heat and maddening flavor close. As she gorged herself on the salty yet unbearably sweet nectar of hot blood, she felt fingers tangling into her hair. A voice tender and warm rang in her ears.

"_My, my. What a spoiled one you are."_

* * *

><p>Sometimes he had the look of a thing from her dreams. She skirted the edge of a deep, dark pool in some forgotten cavern. The water was dead. Not even the silver flash of fish or the wave of a weed stirred within. And at the far shore, a thing crawled out of the blackness. But to say it crawled <span>out<span> would be wrong because it was the shade that parted for it. The soft slurps of the creature lapping at the pool reached her. Ripples spread and died quickly.

And then, the head rose, shapeless mouth dripping. Antlers curled up in fingers bent into claws that seemed to scratch desperately toward the heavens. With eyes violent red and unseeing. A low moan, the pure sound of anguish, rumbled down its throat. It swallowed the noise whole and slithered back into itself.

The tender desire to swaddle its screaming face in her hands always shook her awake.

* * *

><p>She was confined to that room. Prison without the satisfaction of having committed a crime. In sudden swells of meaningless rage, she would tear pages out of the books he brought her and disembowel pillows and stuffed animals alike. The feathers and fluff rained down on the bed and she locked herself in the bathroom to soak in lukewarm water with her clothes still on. The glittering gold swirls on the white wallpaper left the taste of bile in her mouth.<p>

The ruined dress of lace and foolish satin hung limp on her frame.

He entered the room. His fingers tugged carelessly on his tie and slipped the first few buttons of his shirt open. An indulgent smile met the proof of her tantrum. Dead eyes glittering, he offered that smooth nape once a day. A chivalrous duty, almost. Her unsmiling grin stretched and then her teeth sunk deep into the flesh. She suckled eagerly. His arms twisted around her to cradle her head as if it was the most precious object in the world.

Her world was dyed red with him and eventually the destruction stopped. The bitterness crept below the surface, tamped down only by the knowledge that she was trapped. As if to punish him, she bit harder than necessary. The sound of his muted sigh was all that answered.

* * *

><p>You're mine, he said.<p>

Blood of her blood, boiling like poison nectar in those arteries. She had come from him. It must have been a sin. Cannibalism. The murder of the father each time she fed. A type of suicide too.

Still, she drank deeply and with satisfaction. The selfish beat of her sluggish heart was enough to suffocate the weight of her sins.

I want to leave, she said.

The cold, cold smile that hid his real face from her was disgusting.

I'm sorry, he said without sincerity because there wasn't a truthful bone in that beautiful, ugly body of his. It's too dangerous for you, he promised her.

* * *

><p>One night, the sky opened up to bathe the manor in sickly almost-light.<p>

At the window, a face from her gentlest nightmares appeared. He stood below the balcony- no Romeo because her heart recognized that he would never give his life for another. Greed. The sickening, desperate need to survive consumed him. And she knew that his smile was that of a co-conspirator rather than that of a villain.

Hey, Princess, he called up, Let's go for a ride.

His name fell from her tongue.

Sasuke?

Before her brain could ponder, before her hazy half-memories could mull, her body had pulled her up on the ledge. She jumped. She plummeted. But this was without fear because he caught her effortlessly. She was swept into a limo. Plush leather seats and the smell of whiskey.

There were two men bound up tightly with rope seated opposite from them. She stared and then turned to Sasuke. His body fell in an arrogant sprawl against the seat while the car rumbled forward.

Dinner, he told her. He gestured for her to go ahead. With a throat suddenly tight, she grabbed one of them by the collar and pulled him up. There was no sweetness in the bite. Bile, bitter and sharp flowed down her throat. A mouthful of red sprayed back up her throat as her body convulsed and howled its protest. Spitting, she dropped him to drag the back of her hand across her lips.

Foul, she remarked almost angrily. Sasuke seemed unsurprised.

As it should be, he responded with pride.

* * *

><p>Eyes never met hers. The people who walked past always seemed to be incredibly busy staring at everything but her. Irritation frothed up to the surface. Entitlement from this frail brain that barely remembered its own name? Laughable.<p>

It bothered her- that she wasn't forgotten. It was the very opposite. Because it was so impossible to treat her normally, they pretended desperately not to see her.

Something big was rotting under the surface. A secret so ugly that it was buried hastily under polite bows and smiles. Fingers clenching the key close to her chest, she dug through the lies to find the right lock to open.

* * *

><p>Sasuke took her away. The journey ended at a tall glass building overlooking the sea. The gentleness of his hand on her waist filled her head with echoes of noises and faces that bewildered and excited her all at once. Eyes glowing dead and dark, he watched her every movement. The deceptively lazy stare of a lion seemed about right.<p>

Do you still drink tea? He asked it with a smug expression.

I don't remember.

Satisfaction. Triumph? She wasn't good at reading faces, it turned out. She was just good at reading Itachi.

His hollow victory stung her too well. Turning to stare into his eyes, she saw something she wasn't meant to see. Lips parting. Eyes widening. She took his face into her hands with wonder.

You were in love with me, she whispered. It was the way his stare traced her. The soft pause in breath as he searched for words. Would he lie? Lies were an easy part of this world, she had quickly learned.

Dark eyelashes skimmed his cheek as he blinked. A sigh that stretched a million years filtered from his mouth.

Once, he finally said, A long time ago.

You were hurting. I did this, she said.

You did.

* * *

><p>She spent the night at Sasuke's. She sat on the railing of the balcony outside his room and drank in the starlight. The sight of the house with its overgrown garden and creeping ivy struck an odd chord in her. This house fit him, she somehow knew. Twisting her arms around herself, she gazed up at the sky until she felt the planet rumbling in never-ending circles under her.<p>

In the morning, he took her back. Home? It couldn't be called home. Just the place. That place.

A face flushed with blood. Itachi opened the door before Sasuke could knock. With a terse set of words, he demanded to know why Sasuke was there. His hand was rough as he yanked her inside and shoved her behind him.

Brothers, she whispered to herself as she watched them. Because under the hostility, she could see an odd familiarity in the way their bodies leaned and shifted in response to words.

I was driving by and this little birdie flew out the window to greet me. She didn't seem so keen on returning here, Sasuke said with a cruel smile. Their eyes met and the vicious glimmer there hurt. Guilt bloomed in her chest like a thorny flower digging its roots in. She hid herself behind the doorframe, only half her face peering out.

More words flew as knives. And then Sasuke knelt to kiss the back of her hand. There was a tiny twinge of pain. His teeth grazed her skin in a smile.

The look of sheer panic on Itachi's face then would haunt her for a long time.

That night he visited to offer up her meal. Ducking in the shadows, never meeting her eyes, he hid his face from her. Shoulders hunched, throat tense, he slaked her thirst and curled up in her lap. Clutching the front of her dress, he lay there in a crumpled pile and all she could do was stare. The brittleness of his fingers made claws. As he lay there all tender and ruined, a thought so poisonous and undoubtedly familiar settled deep in her heart.

This was the way things had always been.

He had never been in control.

* * *

><p>She quickly came to understand brokenness. His. Not hers.<p>

When Itachi eventually let her wander around the manor alone, she glimpsed deeper horrors than the ones that prowled her dreams. A smile ripped his mouth. The strange tilt of his head as he laughed with alien people. It was the face of a corpse stuffed and sewn up with a false grin.

Later he would hold her against him. Whose shivers were shaking them?

His wrists were twice as thick as hers. But the strange thought crossed her mind that between the two of them, he would always break first. The bitterness of this truth pierced her. Counting his breaths out loud in the darkness, she realized that the blackness of the night came from this man.

The grey of the sun through clouds the next morning was the second loneliest thing she had ever seen.

* * *

><p>Memories returned in fragments. Shards of broken glass. A name. The softness of a face just before the dawn. It was a tide of flowing and ebbing days and nights until her scattered mind began to knit itself back together piece by piece.<p>

Lies floated up. The lies she had been told since her first day were shattered. Still she held this man in her arms because his falsehood did not prove his betrayal but rather his desperation.

As tiny flashes of reality trickled out, Sakura caught brief glimpses of Itachi. And the only way to truly describe him was always the same:

Ruined ruined and more broken than anything that had shattered into a billion irretrievable pieces.

* * *

><p>She counted his eyelashes. Fluttering with the each breath, sweeping across his lid in countless fronds. She brushed her pinky across the tips and his eyes opened. Bright red eyes opened for her. The pupils contracting and focusing like the lens of a camera. Sometimes if she stared hard, she wondered if something would come crawling out of those holes.<p>

Squeezing her eyes shut, she ran her fingertips along his jaw. She memorized the shape of his nose with her thumbs. Mapping out that face. The soft terrain of that expression that hid the gleaming white of the bone underneath.

She wished deeply that he would stop smiling.

* * *

><p>Her name lived on his lips. Like water overflowing from cupped hands, they spilled over in his slumber. A prayer? A curse?<p>

On the days when he breathed her name as invisible tears spilled from his eyes, his blood ran the sweetest. She always knew she dwelled in his nightmares and not his dreams. The gleaming drops of red that welled up at his throat were so beautiful.

Some nights, her hands wondered if it would be kinder to steal the rest of his days from him. Instead, sympathy flowed from the deep pit of her chest without her knowing what she mourned for. She wept softly and he cupped her face in his hands with a tender smile.

* * *

><p>And then, one day, Sasuke returned. Tossing people aside with no effort, he burst into the room with eyes of fire.<p>

You've had enough time playing house. Time to wake up, he snarled.

Itachi wasn't there.

She gave no resistance as Sasuke grabbed her. Sharp pain lanced through her throat. Gouging, twisting agony. And as the world was painted crimson, something snapped.

She had seen enough of Itachi's blood- lovely and sweet. But the sight of the dark red smeared across Sasuke's mouth was wrong.

Wrongwrongwrong.

A razor blade was slicing inside her skull. The world spun twice in the wrong direction and then turned on its side. Sucking in a deep breath of tainted air, she felt the fire flowing down her spine.

Itachi burst into the room. And the red pouring out of her throat painted his frail hands as he held her in his arms.

I'm sorry, he said. So sorry sorry sorry sorry.

Liar, she heard herself reply as everything faded.

* * *

><p>She woke two days later.<p>

Jarring clarity as she looked upon the faces in the house. Everything was hers. This house, these people. Memories had streamed out and settled into the crevices of her mind.

This was what she had needed to really be revived. To see her own blood. A strange trigger she had failed to understand even after hundreds of years of following through with the ritual.

Itachi stood in her doorway, hands twisted together.

I remember everything, she told him, Except what I told you before I went to sleep.

The long periods of slumber where she locked herself away from the world had grown longer and longer. This last one had spanned almost fifty years. The time just before, a time of almost-war and fear. Bored by the pettiness of the humans, she had closed her eyes and ears to the world.

What did I say? she demanded.

You wanted to forget. To try to live in ignorance, he answered.

I wasn't happy that way, she said.

Neither were you, she added.

Just the way you like it, he added with a smile.

* * *

><p>She had chosen him years back. Sasuke, affluent and handsome. He charmed her with his status within the clans. But the bitter taste of that arrogant blood had repelled her. The tender agony in his human brother's veins had appealed to her instead. That was what she thrived on: Emotional pain.<p>

Binding him to her forever by blood, she kept him by her side. And Itachi, hating himself for loving the woman who had betrayed his beloved brother, lived on in crushing guilt.

Why don't you leave me? she sometimes asked.

Peering up at her with those glowing red eyes, Itachi always half-smiled.

How could I? he inquired in return.

You could run away while I slept. I wouldn't chase after you.

Pain flashed in that gaze for an instant.

And she knew that he had chained her to him in the way that she sought to soothe that pain with a kiss.


	23. Hidden

It's hard to believe that it's already August. The weather's been so nice that I've been down to the beach a lot so it's not surprising that this thing popped up inside my head.

* * *

><p><span>Hidden<span>

(suggested by blackpearrlgurl)

Counting the coins in his hand, Itachi let out a sigh. The metal clinked together as he deposited the money into his pocket. After paying rent, paying his bills, and going grocery shopping earlier that morning, he barely had any cash left. He was going to have to be stingy until his paycheck next week. As he let out a sigh, thinking of boring dinners of bread and processed cheese, he heard a loud splash. Hands clasped behind him, he sidled over closer to the edge of the road to peer over.

This town had been carved into the sides of a mountain, meaning that all of the roads overlooked the ocean. It wasn't such a rare occurrence for people to trip and roll down into the waters. They had built low wooden railings to try to prevent injuries but they weren't always so effective.

As he peered over the side of the road, his eyes trailed down to check the loose dirt for any footprints or trails. Nothing seemed to be amiss until he saw that at the very bottom, on the craggy rocks sticking out of the frothing water, there was a pair of shoes.

"Careful, darling! The tide will be coming in soon!" an old woman's voice called from his left. His head lifted and he found the town's midwife standing at the railings. In her wrinkled hands were paper bags. Leafy stalks of celery and the tops of carrots poked out past the handles.

"Excuse me. Would you like some help?" he offered, eyeing the short woman. He had seen her lugging around her heavy medical bag before so he knew she was no frail flower. But the idea of leaving an old lady to carry a burden didn't sit well with him. Lips twitching into a smile, the midwife smiled.

"No need. These rattling bones have still got some life yet," she responded. Her tanned face, lined with laughter, was soft. Nodding respectfully, he turned his head back toward the ocean for one last look. To his surprise, he saw a blob of pink among the foamy blues and whites of the water below. As he watched, the girl turned around to wave up at the elderly woman. The straw hat on top of her head flopped as the wind threatened to wrench it away. With her back turned, she didn't notice a big wave approaching. She let out a squeal of laughter as the wall of water smacked her back, drenching her.

"Come back up, darling. You'll catch a cold," the midwife insisted.

"Alriiiight," the girl said back. As she leaned down to pick up her shoes, she paused. Still in the motion of tucking a lock of hair behind her ears, she suddenly looked up. The shadow of her hat hid her face from him but he was certain that she seemed suddenly very eager to leave. Hooking her fingers into the straps of her sandals, she hopped across the rocks until she reached a dock. She ran down the sun-warmed wood until she reached the stairs that zig-zagged up back to the main road. When she finally reached the midwife, she dropped her shoes and then flashed a big grin.

"You must be cold. Let's get you home," the midwife said. The girl nodded. She pulled her wet hair away from the back of her neck, fanning herself. The fabric of her sleeveless white blouse was transparent and he could see the pink lace edging the top of her bra. As she turned around, she pulled her floppy hat off. Taking up one of the bags, she followed the old woman down the road in light steps.

* * *

><p>"Ah. Her? She suddenly showed up here about 10 years ago."<p>

Leaning against the counter, Itachi watched the toothpick bouncing up and down with the shopkeeper's words. Though he wasn't a man who particularly enjoyed alcohol, Genma was a valuable source of local information.

"We found her on the shore after a really bad storm. She couldn't remember her name or anything so Chiyo took her in as her daughter," explained Genma. Then his eyebrows rose.

"Don't tell me you've actually seen her? She doesn't talk to many people. She's a shy little thing," added Genma. When Itachi nodded, a low noise left Genma's mouth. Biting down on his toothpick, he leaned in closer to his friend. With a conspiratory smile, he spoke.

"Some of the old geezers say that she's the Goddess of the Sea. And if you catch her, she'll grant you one wish," he solemnly said. But then he let out a hearty laugh. The mood of mystery broke.

"But that's a load of bull. They call her Sakura. She's a sweet kid- sometimes she drops by to pick up some cooking wine for Chiyo."

Shaking his head, Itachi paid for a six-pack of beers and left the shop. Sometimes he had trouble figuring out the difference between Genma's lies and his half-truths.

* * *

><p>They met again the next day. Her fingers brushed his as they reached for the same magazine. The flush of her cheeks shouldn't have been surprising. But he found himself needlessly flustered too and they awkwardly stared at each other before she smiled timidly.<p>

He bought her a soda. He popped open a beer. They sat on the cold sand watching the waves together. The plastic bags from the convenience rustled when the wind blew.

"I'm sorry I didn't greet you yesterday. I get nervous around people other than Granny," she quietly told him. Fiddling with her hat, she stole a nervous glance at him. With his chin propped up in his hand, he tilted his head to look at her.

"I'm Itachi. I'm 23," he told her.

"I'm Sakura. I… I think I'm 17. I'm not sure," she replied.

They were quiet again.

"Do you have any family on this island? I don't think I've seen you before," Sakura ventured. It was a weak stab at small talk but he could see that she was also genuinely curious. He lifted his head and instead rested his elbows on his knees. When he picked up his beer from where he had nestled it in the sand, the metal was lukewarm on his fingertips.

"My grandfather was originally from here. I inherited his parents' old house in his will so I moved here last month," he responded. The glitter of curiosity in her gaze was so clear. She was so transparent.

"What's your job? You don't look like a fisherman," she continued to ask. He found that he didn't mind answering all her questions.

"I'm a writer. Well… I'm trying to become one." He amended his words once he realized that he had yet to really get anything picked up by a publisher. He wrote short stories for a couple magazines every month and those were enough to get him by but all his novels had been absolute garbage so far. It was no wonder the publishers always turned up their noses at him while laughing.

Sakura soaked in his words quietly. Her expression was soft, almost complacent as she stared out at the water. The sway of the ebb and flow of the foamy waves was hypnotic.

"I should get back. Granny will be worried," said Sakura so suddenly that it startled him. Sand fluttered off her legs as she brushed her fingers over her thighs and knees. An unmistakable look of longing came over her face as she looked out at the sea one more time. Itachi didn't get up. Instead he extended the arm holding his beer to gesture back at the rest of the island behind them.

"I live up on the hill. My house is the one with the blue mailbox. Come visit sometime," he uttered. A smile stretched her mouth as she turned away from the water. With a nod and then a little wave, she picked up her plastic bag and made her way down the beach. She purposely stayed on the damp part of the sand and he could hear the slap of her bare feet against the water as she walked. He closed his eyes and listened to her humming grow distant.

* * *

><p>She showed up when it was raining a week later. So engrossed in his writing, he had barely noticed the tapping on the front door downstairs. Heaving his body out of the chair, he stumbled down to answer.<p>

Soaked and shivering, she raised her hand in a timid wave. He threw a towel on top of her because her polka-dot undergarments were very visible through her thin dress. Itachi then shoved her down onto the sofa and went to make her tea, which he set rather grumpily on the coffee table in front of her. Crouching beside her, he eyed her drenched hair.

"You're ridiculous. What'll you do if you catch a cold?" he finally sighed. He plopped down on the ground and leaned back on his hands to look at her. With her hands around the mug, she lifted it to her lips to sip.

"I like the rain," Sakura defended herself in a thin voice. She twisted around to look out the window behind her. Fat droplets pelted the glass.

"You like water," he corrected her. A smile pulled her mouth as she turned back to him.

"You noticed?"

"It's not easy to miss." As he spoke, he idly twitched his foot back and forth. It knocked against her leg and he muttered an apology as he moved his leg away. She sipped at her tea some more with the loud pounding of rain against the roof and walls.

"Genma told me you might be the Goddess of the Sea," he suddenly said on whim. For an instant her shoulders stiffened. Her gaze darted to him and then back down.

"She watches over everyone on this island, right? I've heard some stories about her saving boats and changing the weather," Itachi added when the silence grew uncomfortable.

"They say she'll grant a wish to the people who find her. What's your wish?" she finally spoke. He didn't even need to think about it.

"I wouldn't ask for anything." The smile faded from her face. Her head jerked up so she could get a look at his expression. He didn't know what she found, but then she began laughing. Nearly sloshing hot tea all over herself, she shook with mirth until tears shone in her gaze.

"Weirdo," was all she replied.

* * *

><p>"I like you," she said one day with the sun blazing down on the island.<p>

They were sitting on his back porch, slices of watermelon sitting on a plate in front of them. He was lying on his back, a book over his face and one leg crossed over the other. With a dull thud, the hardcover novel slid off and he bolted upright to stare at her. As his arm flailed out, he knocked over the opened can of beer that had been sitting next to his hand. It fizzled quietly as it rolled straight off the deck and landed with a thud in the grass.

That girlish smile with the flushed cheeks would haunt him late at night as he lay staring up at the ceiling.

"What," he replied rather stupidly. His brain was having trouble processing words. Surely he had misunderstood. Misheard. Maybe he was having a stroke.

"I like you. As in, I love you," Sakura patiently explained. Nodding wordlessly, he slowly lay back down and placed the book over his face again. The back of his neck grew hot as a blush began to creep up. The whir of the standing fan mingled with cicadas singing.

"I'm six years older than you, Sakura," he finally told her. He couldn't look at her. He wasn't sure he could handle it.

"I'll be 18 in next year… probably," Sakura calmly countered. Still refusing to look at her, he let out a heavy sigh.

"This is a hallucination. It's hot and I have heat stroke so I'm hallucinating," he declared. A nonchalant hum left her. After a minute, Itachi cautiously pulled one corner of the book up. Sakura was still sitting there, her legs swinging freely over the porch as she munched on a slice of watermelon. When her gaze drifted to him, he quickly lowered the book again and flopped his arm back down at his side. He could hear her soft giggle.

"Love like… romantic, right? Not love like you love your granny," Itachi suddenly inquired.

"You're like the ocean to me, Itachi-san," she said. He lowered the book again, tilting his head back to get a better look at her.

"The ocean?" repeated Itachi. She blinked innocently at him. As she set the watermelon rind down on the plate, her tongue darted out to lick a drop of juice off her lips.

"Sometimes when I look out at the ocean, it makes me really sad. I get so sad that my chest hurts but it's a good kind of hurting, you know?" The rise and fall of her words were like waves themselves. A look too ancient for her face settled there.

His right hand reached out. Placing it on the back of her head, he pulled her in for a kiss. The sweet taste of watermelon lingered there.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until later, when the days grew shorter and when the morning brought a slight chill to them that bit at toes that her stare wandered to the water again.<p>

"Do you remember when you asked me what I would wish for?" Itachi asked. Her shoulders rose and fell in a soft sigh before she turned to look at him. Even though it was cold enough to start wearing sweaters, she was in shorts and a t-shirt. Her toes were completely buried in the sand. He crouched on the beach beside her, balancing on the balls of his bare feet.

"You washed up here, right? And you can't go back to the ocean for some reason," he continued on. Sakura's eyes remained focused on the foamy waves that continued to lap at the grainy shore.

"There was a storm. I was a little girl. I was out in a boat with my parents but the weather got bad so suddenly," Sakura breathed out. Her fingers squeezed together.

"The boat capsized and I begged and begged for her to save me. The Goddess said she would help but that she would have to give her life for mine. That's the law of the universe, she said," explained Sakura. Itachi watched her carefully.

"So… are you Sakura… or are you the Sea Goddess?" he finally asked.

"Neither. We're sort of mixed up in here. I don't remember anything before the accident and some of her memories are in here too. I don't even know if Sakura was my real name. I think it was hers," she admitted. They sat that way for a long time, not saying anything else. And then Itachi stood up so suddenly that Sakura turned to look at him.

"Can you really grant wishes?" Itachi queried.

"Huh? Oh…Yes," answered Sakura. There was something incredibly downtrodden about her expression. Like she had expected a different response, maybe.

"Then I have a wish for you. Well, more of a polite request," said Itachi. Looking tired, Sakura nodded. She had probably heard a bunch of greedy wishes before. Pleas for money or power were probably on the top of the list.

"I wish that you would be happy, Sea Goddess or not. And if this would help that happiness, I wish that you would be by my side always," Itachi stated in such a serious tone that she almost couldn't believe his blasé expression. Her eyebrows slanted down as she stared up at him.

"That's two wishes," she finally pointed out.

"Technically one is contingent on the other so it's really only one," Itachi corrected. He lowered himself again and this time he plopped down directly on the sand.

"That…" Sakura said and then drew in a deep breath, "Is the biggest waste of a wish I've ever heard. No refunds or exchanges."

"Yeah," he answered. He reached over and laced his sand-covered fingers with hers. And in the quiet of the morning, they watched the tide come in until the cold water was lapping at their feet.

* * *

><p>Ah, yes, fluffy romance. You know, back in my day, we used to have to walk 10 miles through the snow for fluff. Uphill. Both ways.<p>

I'm down to maybe about 4 or 5 prompts so I'd appreciate if you wonderful people would send me more suggestions in reviews. Thanks!


	24. Tears

**Somebodylost** was kind enough to inform me that it's Itasaku week. As a result, I'm going to be trying to go through the list of prompts fitting in with the week. So here's the theme for day one.

* * *

><p><span>Tears<span>

(for Itasaku week)

"It's over," Sakura simply said one day.

Well, to be accurate, she had texted him. And there had been a "sorry" thrown in there somewhere.

Itachi didn't understand.

Just the day before, they had seen a play featuring one of her favorite actors. The night had been perfect. Dinner and drinks at a nice restaurant. There had been a walk through the dark city to the theater. The night had ended with them kissing in front of her apartment building. She had invited him upstairs but he had declined because she had an early flight to catch in the morning. She had been wearing a dark blue dress that made him regret not taking her up on her invitation later.

And when he opened his eyes, the text had been there. Ugly and blunt.

He called her but he got the answering machine. Her phone was off. Her flight had taken off by then and she wouldn't land for another 19 hours or so. Putting his head in his hands, he stared at the floorboards between his feet and tried to make sense of things. The glimpses of her laughing face and talking mouth filled his head.

But he went to work. Because that was what he did. He lectured at the nearby university. The Psychology of Shakespeare on Mondays and Wednesdays from 3-6. Murder in the Gothic on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 11:30-2:30. Big seminars, surprisingly popular since there were so many famous professors teaching as well. His colleagues always joked that the girls always showed up to see his face and dropped out once they read the syllabus.

He slogged through his lecture on Lady Macbeth and let the class out an hour early. The usual students stayed behind to pepper him with questions and butter him up in preparation for the recommendation letters they would need at the end of the semester. Pasting on a smile, he nodded through their inane chatter and sent them away with mumbled excuses of feeling unwell.

It was shameful, but he went back to his office, locked the door, and had a good cry.

* * *

><p>He took her to The Blue Lantern for dinner. A cozy little restaurant with a gifted bartender. Elegant and strange seafood dishes topped off with fizzy cocktails with little twists of lemon in them filled her stomach. Feeling fuzzy from the drinks, they had held hands during the walk to the show. The bustle of the dark city and the brilliance of the golden streetlights always made her feel strangely elated. A few hours of watching dancing and singing always brightened her day. He took her home, walking slowly and talking the entire way. She breathed in the warm summer air with a smile.<p>

A kiss at the door. He declined to come upstairs.

"You need to be up early tomorrow. When you get back, I promise," he murmured before one last peck.

She pranced up to her apartment, swaddled in the warm contentment of a successful date. Blasting music, she twirled around packing last-minute things into her carry-on suitcase while trading instant messages with some of her friends still up late too. She washed her face, scrubbed her teeth, and was in bed before 1.

And lay there awake. Eyes wide, staring up at the ceiling. Because when she couldn't sleep, her brain started to think unnecessary thoughts. The panic crept up from every crevice inside her mind and seized her with cold hands. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't take a breath without the terror seizing her. The uncertainties grabbed her and shook her until her head was spinning. The what if's of the future swirled around her in dizzying patterns.

His smile, his dark hair. The feel of his eyelashes tickling his cheek. But suddenly he was sneering coldly at her. What if he moved on without her? What if he ended up suddenly saying, "Sorry, I really love someone else" just like the others had done before?

Grabbing for her phone, she typed out the words she had sent so many times before.

_It's over. I'm sorry._

Cold, to stab him deep in the pride. That way he wouldn't run after her. And like the coward she was, she switched her phone to airplane mode, shoved it under her pillow, and spent the rest of her night curled up under the covers while silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

Better to break things off now before he would break her.

Six hours later, she was on her flight to Hong Kong, drowning out thoughts of Itachi with morning mimosas.

She hated that she was always this way.

* * *

><p>He spent his mornings with a cup of herbal tea and his tablet reading through his social media accounts and then checking the weather forecast. After an hour at the gym, he ate late breakfast while grading papers in his towel. He had mastered the art of never getting orange marmalade on essays as he munched through whole wheat toast and corrected spelling errors. Afterwards, he dressed with the late morning news playing in the living room.<p>

Then he made the 15-minute walk to the university where, depending on the days of the week, it was either office hours and lecture or just lecture. Usually he spent his free time on campus working on his novel or having lunch with a colleague. He ate dinner in the quiet of his apartment. After a couple quiet hours with a book or working out a lesson, he went to bed with the clamor of the city a comforting white noise outside.

* * *

><p>She spent her mornings with a couple cups of hot, dark coffee while it was still dark outside. After her morning spin class or hot yoga session at the nearby health club, she showered and dressed for the day. By then, her phone was already blowing up with work emails and texts from coworkers. She ran out the door, grabbing another cup of coffee and a toasted bagel from the deli down the block. Struggling into an already-packed subway car, she struggled to swallow down her breakfast while not spilling coffee on other passengers.<p>

Another day would pass with her running around with a camera while yelling at people. Whiny models and obnoxiously late starlets were the usual array of problems she faced. Then the rest of her time was spent locked in her studio with the lights dimmed and only the light from her computer as she went through photos and edited. She ate sitting at her desk and poured herself a cup of coffee every time the mug went dry. When her assistant timidly knocked to say she was going home, Sakura nodded absently and worked for another few hours until she locked up and took the empty train home. Dinner was usually when she called up a couple of her friends for late meal nearby. The night usually ended with a few drinks before she crawled into bed and repeated the whole process.

* * *

><p>But for the next two weeks, neither of them seemed to be able to get anything done.<p>

Itachi called out sick for work, citing health problems. He shut off his alarm and curled up on his couch watching reruns of 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and drinking orange juice straight out of the carton. He pushed the grading off to his two TA's, instead spending time skulking through the graphic novel sections of his favorite bookstores, probably looking like an angry axe murderer.

Sakura went through the high-profiled photo shoot she had been looking forward to for weeks. But at night when everyone else went out dancing and admiring the beauty of the city, she claimed a corner at the hotel bar and drank until she was almost drunk enough to consider calling him. The extra week she had planned into her stay for sight-seeing and shopping went to waste as she ordered room service and spent most of her time soaking in the bathtub and draining the minibar. She cried a lot, too. And then she slept with an ice pack on her face to bring down the swelling.

* * *

><p>He sent her one email.<p>

She didn't have the courage to open it so it stayed there, a little red notification on her phone while the other emails were quickly read and answered.

She bought him a souvenir: a little statue of a smiling Buddha that turned into a tiny disco ball when the switch was flipped. He would have laughed at that. Quirky little things always made him laugh. And the thought of it made her sad all over again. She wrapped the stupid thing in one of her shirts and shoved it into the bottom of her suitcase with tears in her eyes.

* * *

><p>Had she read his email?<p>

Maybe she had deleted it without reading it at all. She slept with her phone at her side. There was no way she hadn't noticed it.

He tried to work on his novel some more to take his mind off of things. He finished it- sent a copy of it to his publisher. The reply a day later said that while the beginning was great, the end felt a little off. His publisher asked if he was doing alright. Itachi ignored the question and said he would work on the ending. When he reached for his favorite mug, he remembered that it had been a present from her. It was in the shape of an owl with glasses perched on its little beak.

"He reminded me of you," she had laughed when he opened the box. Fighting the stinging sensation in the corners of his eyes, he went to fill the kettle and sagged against the counter, waiting for the water to boil.

* * *

><p>Itachi knew when she was home because he was accidentally included in a mass text. It was from Kisame, one of their mutual friends who owned a sushi restaurant near Sakura's studio.<p>

_Sakura came home this morning so I thought it would be good to hold a party tonight._

There were quick replies from their other friends.

_Cool. You bring the sushi and I'll bring the wine._

_We can whip up an appetizer. No one's allergic to dairy, right?_

_Then we'll take dessert. Itachi, what're you bringing?_

He set his phone to silent and ignored the texts. Eventually, his screen stopped lighting up. It was childish, but it seemed unfair for Sakura to suddenly end things and leave him to explain things to their friends.

The next day, he received a few messages from friends asking if he was alright, asking what had happened. He sent back polite replies, assuring them that he was fine. Then he popped the battery out of his phone and went back to writing.

* * *

><p>When she came home, her friends threw her a dinner party. With good food and drinks, it wasn't hard for her friends to see her glum mood. That and Itachi's blatant absence was clue enough. Nobody really asked the question but the questioning was in all their stares. But when she didn't respond to their probing, they quickly gave up and tried to lighten the mood with more drinks and corny jokes.<p>

She almost ran into him the next day while nursing a hangover. He caught sight of her at the subway station but she quickly ran up the stairs before he could make his way to her platform. By the time he got there, she was already a block away despite her high heels.

A couple days later, she spotted him at an open market chatting to a lady selling special wine. She was pretty and smiled too much, in Sakura's opinion. Sakura pretended to be busy examining exotic tomatoes at another stall while she stole glowers at the unknown woman. As if feeling these stares, Itachi glanced her way a couple times, never quite noticing her thanks to her hat. In the end, Sakura left with too many tomatoes and a strange sour taste in her mouth.

This weird stalemate ended with Sakura running into an old client at the Blue Lantern. She sat alone at the bar, chomping through grilled shrimp and tossing back cocktails with dead eyes. An underwear model with a gorgeous face and a completely empty head had sidled up next to her. He had been featured in one of her shoots several months back and had tried emailing her persistently, only giving up when she hadn't responded for several weeks. His silky words and flexing biceps were so unwelcome at the moment that she really had to fight the urge to dump her drink on him. It would be waste of alcohol anyway.

"So, a gorgeous woman like you and a gorgeous man like me are both at one bar. It is destiny, no?" he said in a husky voice.

"No," Sakura replied in a flat voice. The bartender, cautiously eyeing them out of the corner of his eyes, let out a quiet snort of laughter.

"But for us to meet again after such time apart, surely you feel the air of fate," he persisted. Sakura let out a sigh.

"I feel you persistently violating my personal space. Now if you'd please leave me alone, you're ruining my dinner," she firmly replied. The model opened his mouth again before a man with dark hair slipped into the seat on the other side of Sakura. Without asking, Itachi plucked the cocktail glass from her grasp and took a sip.

"Huh. Tangy. What's that called?" he asked.

"A Salty Dog," said Sakura in response without looking at him. Itachi pointed to Sakura's drink before handing it back to her and the bartender nodded as he set about making another one.

"And who is this rude person interrupting our conversation?" the underwear model demanded. Itachi arched his eyebrow as he risked a glance at Sakura. She looked right back at him with a face of utter misery. A vengeful smile curling at his mouth, Itachi shrugged.

"Ask her," he simply replied. Lips twisting into a smile, Sakura let out a little laugh. She took another drink as the underwear model stared expectantly. She emptied her glass and then cleared her throat.

"This is the man I'm probably going to have a few drinks and then stumble into my apartment to have angry make-up sex with," Sakura calmly stated. Itachi pondered this idea and then nodded approvingly.

"How crude," the model exclaimed.

"How true," corrected Itachi in his best professor-voice.

The model left in a huff.

"Are you ever going to explain what that text was about?" Itachi finally asked as they walked home together. Sakura frowned at him.

"I told you when we started dating. Deep-seated fear of commitment. You got too close. I panicked," she sniffed. Itachi stopped walking to stare at her for a long time. She crossed her arms over her chest, her expression suddenly a lot less certain.

"Are you still mad?" she tentatively asked. It only occurred to her then that maybe he wasn't quite as okay with everything as he appeared to be.

"You're completely crazy," Itachi just said. Sakura blinked, unsure if she should be hurt or not.

"I cried because of you," he went on to add.

"I did too," she said in hopes that it would make him feel less upset. Itachi eyed her for another while before he took her hand and began walking again. His steps were brisk and purposeful.

"Where are we going?" inquired Sakura as he dragged her along.

"You said so before, right? Angry make-up sex. And then more angry make-up sex. And then maybe some wine," he promptly replied.

It was all they could do not to break into a full run back to her place.


	25. Kitchen Messes

Day two. This one was especially fun.

* * *

><p><span>Kitchen Messes<span>

(for itasaku week)

They had been planning this date for a week. She would come over on Friday night at 7. She had asked what to bring. He had mysteriously replied white wine with one of those stupid winking emojis that he deeply regretted sending until she had sent one back a few minutes later.

As soon as they had said goodnight, Itachi had dialed his younger brother's number. In a voice hazy with sleep, Sasuke had picked up on the third ring.

"What? A dinner date? Heat up a Lean Cuisine or something," Sasuke snarled in response and hung up.

So no help on that front.

He spent every spare moment on the internet looking up idiot-proof dinner recipes. And when Friday night rolled around, he was reasonably confident with the menu. Rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, he had set about calmly moving around the kitchen.

This went to hell, of course, by the time Sakura arrived an hour later. She was wearing a red polka dot headband and her hair was pulled up and he was so out of his mind that he kissed her at the front door without even letting her inside. Her eyes went wide and she blinked profusely but she didn't seem angry about the strange greeting. In fact, she blushed a little, a pretty shade of rouge rising to her cheeks.

"Um… nice to see you too. I brought the wine," she said, holding up a green bottle with some fancy French label.

"I wasn't sure what you were cooking so I just went with whatever. Something smells really good. Are you making apple pie?" Sakura asked all at once as they finally went inside. Itachi struggled not to look too panicked as he took her coat, hanging it up in the hall closet.

"Ha… not really. It's a scented candle," admitted Itachi with a sheepish laugh.

_TO COVER THE SMELL OF BURNING GARLIC_, a voice screamed inside his head.

"Oh, nice touch. Quite romantic," she commented with a flirtatious smile. It was only through sheer will power that he managed to smile back. She looked around the living room with curiosity. He had been sure to scrub the entire place clean and it looked as if she approved. Rubbing her hands together, she turned to look at him.

"Okay. So, what're you making? Let me help," she said, hands on her hips.

_Just a disaster_, the voice sighed.

"Just some pasta and chicken. Salad. Dessert," he managed to reply.

"Wow, full course. I'm impressed. Should I chop vegetables, stir the pot? Drink all the wine and stand making quirky commentary?" she asked, pointing in several directions as she asked where the kitchen was. Thinking quickly, he put his hands on her shoulders and steered her to the couch instead. He made her sit and then, for some reason, picked up a cushion and put that on her lap too.

"Relax. I'll take care of everything," was all he said before he hurried back to the kitchen. And then after a moment, he was back to take the bottle of wine. Another moment after that, he was back again to hand her a glass of the wine. All the while, she was smiling and trying her best not to laugh.

"Are you sure you don't want my help?" she called after him

"No, it's fine," he insisted as the door swung shut after him.

_PLEASE DON'T COME IN HERE AND SEE THIS._

Because the scorched shreds of onion and garlic in the frying pan hardly looked edible. The chicken looked sort of maimed and sad, like it had been caught in a house fire. The pasta sat in one angry lump at the bottom of the drained pot. The salad dressing had refused to mix together properly and it was a sort of runny mess on top of the salad greens. He had tried to cover the travesty with crumbles of bleu cheese but now it just looked like moldy vomit. The only thing left had been the pie but it had somehow exploded, covering the inside of the oven in gooey chunks.

Putting his head in his hands, he tried to think of what to do.

"Maybe I can order takeout really quick?" he muttered to himself.

He stood waving a dishcloth to keep smoke away from the smoke detector for a bit. And then, with a resigned sigh, he nudged at the ruined food still sitting on the stove.

"Okay, so you know I'm super-antsy and I can't sit still. At least let me do dishes," said Sakura as she pushed the door open with her hip. She froze in her tracks as soon as she saw the smoky mess inside the kitchen.

_ABORT ABORT. ABANDON SHIP_, the voice screeched as his brain went completely blank.

Sakura's stare swept around the chaotic room once before it focused in on him. To punctuate the moment of absolute horror, a piece of pie stuck to the roof of the oven flopped down in a sticky plop.

"I'll…be right back," she finally whispered before dashing out of the house.

Itachi poked at the rubbery chicken one last time and then reached over to take a swig from the mostly-full wine bottle.

Ten minutes later, there was the squeal of tires in his driveway. A car door slammed shut and then he heard the front door squeak open. Completely perplexed, he watched her burst into the kitchen, all breathless and pink-faced from running. She dumped a stack of plastic containers on the already-crowded counters.

"Okay. This is some mushroom ravioli from Wednesday. I think this is couscous. Grilled catfish from yesterday. This is… oh, this is stuffed bell peppers and some grilled zucchini. And that one is some macaroons I got at work today. This should be enough for dinner, right?" she rattled off, picking up each container and peering inside. When she finished, she straightened and gave Itachi a smile. He stared dumbly up at her. He was sitting on the floor, towel draped over his shoulder in a pose of absolute defeat.

"Did you just drive home to get your leftovers?" he slowly asked. Sakura nodded with a puzzled expression.

"What's wrong?" she inquired. He gave her a dumbfounded look.

"Here, try this," Sakura said, crouching to pop a slice of cold zucchini in his mouth. He chewed, eyes never leaving her face.

"I thought this would send you running," he admitted once he swallowed. He gestured to the still-smoky kitchen. She seemed surprised.

"Why? I think it's sweet that you tried to seduce me despite your obvious inability to cook at all," she responded frankly.

"Tried," he repeated pointedly. At this, Sakura's eyebrows arched.

"Sweet is the first step to seducing me, sir. Bring that wine. You'll find I'm pretty amenable with some food in me," she said with a wink. With that, she stood and grabbed all the containers before sauntering off to the living room. Itachi only stared after her for a second before he scrambled to his feet to grab the wine.


	26. The First Time

I wanted to stay away from the obvious "first time having sex" idea because that felt boring to me.

* * *

><p><span>The First Time<span>

(for itasaku week)

There had been a lot of "firsts" in their relationship.

He had been there for those first faltering steps, watching with wide eyes as she staggered across the floor on her own. He had seen her conquer the bicycle, master the somersault. Her first lost tooth and even her first A on a test were all things he had witnessed.

She had seen her fair share of firsts too. His first blue ribbon for a swim meet, for one. His first visit to the emergency room (he had fallen during a ski trip and needed three stitches) she was present for. Their first time on an airplane was together. They sat next to each other, eyes wide with wonder as they stared out the tiny window and watched the city shrink.

His first girlfriend wasn't such a happy memory. His first ex had been a much happier occasion for her.

He saw her cry over a boy for the first time as they sat in his car. He drove them down to the beach even though it was late and they listened to rush of waves crashing over the sand.

His first lie to her was that he would visit when he left for college.

Her first lie to him was that she was in love with her then boyfriend.

The first time they fought, she was a senior in high school and he was a grad student working part-time as a bartender. She caught him smoking outside his house on her way home from late-night rehearsals with the drama club. He told her not to be a pain in the ass and she stalked off in tears.

The first time he saw her kiss anyone was that summer. Leaning out his window with a cigarette, he saw a car pull up next-door. She got out, shirt riding up as she leaned in through the passenger-side window. When she pulled away and gave a little wave, he saw the silhouette of a guy leaning over, beckoning her with a crooked finger. She leaned in again and he saw their shadows spill across the dashboard. Suddenly feeling sick, he flicked his cigarette out the window and watched it sizzle against the sidewalk.

She left for a liberal arts college a few hours away and he understood for the first time what it was to be left behind. She came back for Thanksgiving break two months later with a streak of blonde in her hair and eyes sparkling with wonder. When her family came over for the usual joint dinner, she puttered around the kitchen helping the moms cook while he sat on the sofa watching TV with the dads and his younger brother.

He got his master's degree a year later and it was the first time she wasn't at his graduation ceremony with a bouquet of brightly-colored flowers. An internship in Paris. How proud everyone was, how wonderful she was. They didn't keep in touch and he didn't know she had come home until they ran into each other getting the morning paper.

It was petty that he didn't go to her graduation two years later. He pretended it was because he had moved out of his parents' house. It was really because he didn't want to be there when her latest boyfriend gave her flowers and showered her with adoration. He was an architect, well-bred and intelligent. Her parents loved him and Sakura seemed to too.

The first time Sakura was proposed to, Itachi didn't hear about it until nearly two weeks later. He was staying at his parents' for Christmas and his younger brother brought the news up. It bothered him that he hadn't even been aware that the relationship had been so serious. The architect had asked her to marry him and she had rejected him outright.

The first time Sakura saw Itachi drunk was one frosty February night. He was a freelance writer, working part-time as a piano teacher. She was a young artist just starting to gain popularity. Lugging a heavy bag of equipment, she noticed someone faltering down the sidewalk. Huffing against the cold, she caught up to him.

"Hey, are you alright?" she asked before realizing who it was.

"Oh… it's you," he flatly said.

When had their exchanges become so sharp? So vicious. It stung her but she persisted with a smile.

"Are you heading home now?" inquired Sakura as she fell into step beside him. He grunted, burying the bottom half of his face into his scarf. His breath stank of whiskey and he was suddenly embarrassed to let her smell it. It took a while for him to notice the constant thumping noise that accompanied her steps. Eyeing the heavy bag over her shoulder, he sniffed and then grabbed it from her.

"Where do you live now? I'll walk you," he muttered. At this, her expression softened.

"Down this street, in the tall building with the fire escape," she responded.

"Ah… that's where I live too," he answered. Her eyes widened.

"Really? I just moved in yesterday but I'm still waiting for the rest of my stuff," Sakura said with a sigh.

When they climbed the stairs, she pointed to a door. He pointed to a door right next to it. She laughed and he let out a smile too. For the first time in years, they were next-door neighbors again.

"Thanks for your help. Paint can get seriously heavy," stated Sakura with an air of finality. She turned to take her bag from him and that was when he kissed her for the first time. Sloppy and bitter. Tears brimming in her eyes, she slapped him and ran into her apartment. He stood there, face numb except for the hot patch on his cheek. It occurred to him that it was the first time she had ever hit him.

The first time she visited his apartment, it was with a plate of muffins.

"Apology muffins. Sorry I slapped you," she said. He took a bite out of one. They were still hot and had bits of cranberries and orange. He swallowed it down and began peeling the wrapper off another.

"I'm not sorry I kissed you," he answered around a mouthful of muffin. The steam rose between them as she broke into hers. Her wide eyes watching him through that faint haze was a first too. Cheeks reddening, she didn't say anything and wolfed hers down too.

The first time he entered her apartment, it was with a stranger. He considered knocking but then stopped himself. Instead, he leaned against the door and slapped his open palm against it once.

"Hey, are you naked?" Itachi called. There was a muffled thump and then some rattling as the chain was pulled off. As the door swung open, the movement pulled Itachi inside. Hands on her hips, she tried not to smile at his strangely suave entrance. But then she noticed who was with him and her face changed so much that he couldn't quite describe the shift. But everything about her just kind of softened and he instinctively knew that this wasn't something he wanted to see ever.

"Hi," she breathed out.

"Alright, see you later," Itachi quickly said before anything else could happen. She didn't stop him and that left a strange pain in his side. He saw the guy leaving early in the morning as he hung out the window to smoke and it took a lot of effort not to drop his hot cigarette on top of his head as he passed on the sidewalk below.

The first time they drank together, she barged into his apartment with an enormous bottle of wine. Fuming and in her sweatpants, she slammed the wine down on his dining room table.

"He said that he thought I was going to be a 'fun girl'. What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she demanded without greeting him. He looked up from his laptop and peered at her through his glasses.

"That you were going to be easy. Is that a Pinot noir?" he drawled. Feet up on his desk and computer in his lap, he watched her rummage around in his kitchen drawers for a corkscrew.

"I bought this stupid thing because I was going to cook him a romantic dinner tomorrow. Screw it. We're drinking this all tonight," Sakura seethed. Ripping the cork out, she grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and filled them up. With a sigh, Itachi lowered his feet and closed his laptop. He walked over to her, noting that the back of her neck was red too. He accepted the cup and clinked it against hers.

"Nothing says classy like wine in a mug. I should've dropped my cig on his head when I had a chance," said Itachi, in an accommodating mood. They drank heavily, Sakura cried a little, and then they ended up watching a French movie with such an awful plot and even worse characters that they fell asleep still giggling and snorting before the ending credits could roll up. Her head in his lap, his feet up on the coffee table, they slept the way that had when they had been children. The huge, empty bottle went up on a shelf in his apartment as a testament to their amazing feat that night.

"Anyone else would drink that much wine in one night and get sent to the hospital," he pointed out over breakfast the next day. It was his first time cooking breakfast with her. She put hot sauce on her scrambled eggs, he noticed.

"Not me. I've got my Daddy's liver," she responded proudly as she patted her stomach. He put cinnamon in his coffee and she wondered why she hadn't ever thought to do that.

"Are you working today?" asked Sakura.

"I'm giving lessons today. You?" he answered while slathering his toast with jelly. Sakura's face lit up.

"I managed to get an exhibition set up for tonight. Can you make it? I've been meaning to ask you," she said. She rummaged in her purse until she found a light purple envelope with his name written on the front in slanting cursive. He smirked into his coffee.

"What? Giving me your ex's invitation? Isn't that tacky?" he jabbed. It was surprising when she didn't flare up with a burst of anger like she usually did.

"I'll have you know, jackass, that this is **yours**. I wasn't going to invite him anyway. He always said he didn't get my work," she bit back with an equally condescending smirk. Itachi frowned as he set his mug down.

"That's probably because he was an uncultured swine. I'll try to make it. Do I need to bring you flowers or some shit?" he inquired with a sigh. She laughed at that, which was infinitely better than her scowling.

"Don't be gross," was her smiling response to his teasing.

He showed up with a bouquet of fragrant white lilacs anyway. Even as she had smacked him on the arm, she had blushed.

"How did you remember I love lilacs?" she asked before burying her nose in the soft blooms. It was the first time he had seen her dressed up like this. In a black lace dress with sheer sleeves and her short hair curling and pinned up, she looked a lot different. But it wasn't a bad sort of different. When she moved her head, her glittering earrings tinkled against each other in a sort of fairytale sound.

He didn't get a chance to reply because she was up on her tiptoes kissing his cheek.

"Oh, what's this? Is this your boyfriend, Sakura?" one of the guests at the gallery asked. Before Sakura could laugh it off, Itachi let out his most arrogant smirk, the one she absolutely hated.

"Sure I am," he quickly said.

Sakura's eyebrows rose. That tone of his voice was what caught her. Light-hearted but not quite joking.

"Sure you are?" she repeated. His hand moved to rest on her waist.

"What? I got you flowers, we've kissed. We even had a date," he answered innocently. Sakura let out an incredulous laugh.

"I don't think drinking three liters of wine counts as a date," she countered.

"Sure it does! As long as there was flirting," the guest interrupted. Itachi nodded.

"There was light flirting and we cuddled on the sofa. I let her use me as a pillow," added Itachi.

"Ooh, guy's scoring major points already, Sakura," the guest commented, sipping on some champagne.

"Is this seriously how you're going to ask me out? We've known each other for 26 years. And this is how it goes down?" she demanded.

"Well, if you want to add drama, I could throw you up against the nearest wall and kiss you senseless but that might ruin your nice paintings," suggested Itachi in a level voice.

"This is actually the dumbest way any man has ever asked me out. What is wrong with you?" she said, even as she began smiling.

"You've pretty much got no choice. You know, mutual first love, that sort of thing? I'm kind of a big deal to you," he answered in a blasé tone. Sakura gaped at him.

"…You're unbelievable," she finally said before walking off, shaking her head.

But when he caught up to her, she couldn't hide the stupid grin on her face.


	27. Reactions

Reactions

(for itasaku week)

"Hey, what are you doing?" Sasuke asked his older brother as he climbed up on the roof. He could see the barbeque winding down in their backyard below. Kisame was still grilling steaks and hotdogs, laughing and swatting at flies. Sasori and Deidara were throwing wood into the fire pit. There was a loud squeal of laughter as Hidan dove into the pool and sent a wave of water toward the Konan who had been chatting to Sakura while eating the remains of her dinner. She lifted her plate up in just in time to save her steak from becoming waterlogged.

"Who wants ice cream? I'm making a quick run to the store," Kakuzu called as he walked out of the kitchen and onto the deck. Brushing sopping bangs out of her eyes, Sakura looked up. She had been lounging in the shallow end, cooling off after having too many cocktails. But Zetsu mixed up a mean pina colada and she wasn't complaining.

"I'll come with you. I need to pick up a couple things," said Sakura. She placed her hands on the pool edge and begun pulling herself up before Hidan popped up and grabbed her legs. Throwing her over his shoulder, he began spinning her around. Laughing and half-heartedly smacking at his back, Sakura played along with the whole thing.

"I'll kill you if you puke in my pool, you drunkard," Itachi yelled down. Hidan stopped spinning and Sakura took the opportunity to look up at him. As she wiped chlorine water out of her eyes with one hand, she gave him the middle finger.

"You know, you should stop picking on her. She'll kill you," remarked Sasuke as he lightly elbowed Itachi.

"But it's so much fun teasing her," sighed Itachi in response. Sasuke shook his head.

"You're either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid," Sasuke sighed right back.

"Save me, Zet. I'm gonna die," Sakura giggled, reaching out her arms toward Zetsu sitting at the shallow end, just his feet in the cool water. He eyed her predicament for a moment before he smoothly dove into the water, cutting in at an angle. When he reached Hidan, there was a lot of flailing and splashing, but in the end, it was Zetsu that emerged victorious to help Sakura out of the pool. Raking her hair away from her eyes, Sakura leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

"Watch out," she warned him an instant before Hidan tackled. A towel was thrown on top of her head and she craned her neck to see Kakuzu standing behind her.

"Thanks," Sakura said while rubbing her hair and then wrapping the whole towel around her body. Standing, she looked around until she found her white hoodie still draped over the back of a chair. While she pulled her sleeves through it, Kakuzu stood jingling his car keys. As she wriggled into her pink cut-off shorts, Hidan swam up to rest against the edge of the pool. When he let out a whistle, Sakura paused to shoved him in the side of the head with her foot, which really didn't seem to deter him at all. She zipped her hoodie up just enough to cover her polka dot bikini.

"Get me mint chocolate chip!" he ordered, pointing a finger at Kakuzu who only sneered.

"Go suck a dick, Hidan. We're getting butter pecan," Kakuzu retorted.

"We'll get both, you big babies. C'mon. I've had too much to drive," Sakura interrupted before a brawl could break out. She pulled on Kakuzu's arm and he reluctantly followed. But Sakura stopped when she felt something tugging on her hood. She half-turned to find that Itachi had climbed down from the roof. When he tried to pull her closer, Sakura ducked under Kakuzu's arm to escape. Sticking her tongue out in a childish gesture, she sniffed and looked away from him.

Hands in the pockets of his jeans, Itachi jerked his chin toward Kakuzu.

"I'll come with. We're out of beer too," he said mostly to Kakuzu.

"Sure. But I call shotgun," Sakura announced with a shrug. The two guys rolled their eyes as she skipped inside.

On the way to the convenience store, Sakura plugged her phone in and blasted music as they drove. With the windows down and her whipping her head around, her hair dried in no time. Itachi lay in the back, trying his best not to smile at Sakura's enthusiasm. Even Kakuzu drummed his fingers against the steering wheel and bobbed his head. The girl had a good taste in music.

Inside the store, Sakura headed straight for the section in the back to pick out ice cream. Itachi picked out a couple six packs of beer along with some hard cider. By the time he had paid, Sakura and Kakuzu were dumping the ice cream onto the counter. The clerk tried to flirt with her but Sakura brushed off the attempts by chatting with Kakuzu the whole time.

Itachi thought he saw Kakuzu glance his way with a smug look.

As Sakura went to open the door, Itachi walked up right behind her and knocked into her butt with his hip. Throwing him a scowl, Sakura slipped through the door and let it slam shut right in front of him.

"Creep," she simply said. As he walked past her, he shoved her again and she was smiling this time.

By the time they got back to the house, it was starting to get dark. Shoving the drinks into the fridge, they broke into the ice cream with gusto. Sakura and Konan ran off with the only container of strawberry. Deidara ran over to steal some, pestering them until the three of them agreed to share.

Eventually, they settled around the fire pit in folding chairs. There weren't enough seats so Sakura fixed Itachi with a scowl before she perched on just his left knee.

"What?" he asked with a completely innocent expression.

"You've been an asshole all day. Calling me a drunkard, sexually harassing me in public," Sakura listed off on her fingers. Itachi shrugged.

"And you told me my ass was too flat before," Sakura added with an emphatic glower. Scoffing, Itachi pulled her back so he could rest his chin on her shoulder.

"Oh please, like a little teasing actually hurts your feelings. I keep telling you it's too much fun to make fun of you," he reminded her.

"Jackass," was her muttered response. One of his hands slipped lower to splay over the curve of her butt cheek.

"Maybe if I massage it, it'll get bigger," he whispered. Sakura broke into loud laughter while Kisame, sitting next to them, suddenly looked very embarrassed. And it seemed that all of Itachi's playful mocking was forgiven when he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and let her finish off his beer.


	28. Fight

Fight

(for itasaku week)

"Sometimes I get the feeling you're just picking fights with me because you're bored!"

"I do not **pick fights**! How could you say something like that? You make it sound like I want to hurt you or something!"

"That's what I feel like sometimes!"

"Well if you didn't make yourself the victim in every situation, you'd see that maybe we fight because that's what adults in a relationship do sometimes. They fight."

"Not all the time! Maybe if your parents were still together like mine, you'd understand."

"Do NOT drag my father into this!"

Rubbing her temples, Sakura let the couple in front of her scream at each other until they seemed satisfied. Completely drained of energy, they sat fuming at one another until she quietly cleared her throat.

"Well…it seems we have quite a lot of pent-up hostility on both ends. Suigetsu-san, why don't you start off by explaining what you mean when you said Karin-san 'picks fights' with you," Sakura calmly said as she jotted notes down in her leather-bound journal.

The hour-long session ended with the couple in tears with their arms around one another.

"I'm sorry. I just get so insecure because you're surrounded by all those pretty women at work. I feel worried that you'll leave me," Karin sobbed.

"Karin-san, I know he doesn't always show it, but Suigetsu-san is very sensitive. He picks up on all that negative energy and it affects his mood. And Suigetsu-san, you have to understand that family is a very sensitive and painful topic for Karin-san," Sakura added soothingly. The sniffling couple thanked her for her time and Sakura sat on the edge of her desk to watch through the window as they paused at the door downstairs and kissed. Smiling to herself, Sakura rubbed at the rounded curve of her stomach.

There was a knock on the door and it cracked open. Her secretary popped her head in, thick dark bangs sweeping across her forehead with the movement.

"That's all for this morning, Doc. You have that appointment soon so you should probably get going," Hinata reminded her as she read off the calendar on her phone. Sakura glanced down at her phone too.

"You're right. I'd better get going. Take your lunch break too, Hinata," said Sakura as she moved around grabbing her things. Shoving her phone into her bag, Sakura pulled on her beige trench coat, tying it shut over the swell of her protruding stomach.

Her lunch reservation was for noon precisely and she was a very punctual person.

But for some reason, two hours later, she was not full of noodles and hot tea like she had expected to be. Instead, her stomach was growling angrily and she was currently driving not back to her office but instead to a tall skyscraper in the middle of the city. She parked her sedan in the visitor's lot and took a moment to take a deep breath. Arranging her short hair neatly around her face, she brushed one stray eyelash off her cheek and then was getting out of the car. With her wristlet hanging off her right hand and her keys jingling from her fingers, she greeted the doorman warmly when he held the door open for her.

Sakura signed in at the front desk where the receptionist recognized her and asked how she was doing, cooing over how big her belly had gotten. She answered politely, laughing at her jokes and commenting on how nice the weather had been lately.

"Right up on the 20th floor. Would you like me to take you?" the girl offered. But Sakura shook her head.

"Thank you, but I'll be fine," she said as she strode off to the elevators. Pushing the button with her manicured nail, Sakura made sure her smile was still natural in the reflective door. She leaned against the back wall as she waited for the elevator to rise. Thankfully, the standard time for lunch break was long over so it went all the way up without interruptions. With a musical ding, the metal doors slid open to reveal a tastefully-arranged lounge area. To the right was another reception desk in front of a set of wooden double doors.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but the president is very business at the moment and isn't taking any visitors," one of the men at the desk said even before she began walking towards him. It was only when the other man at the desk looked up that Sakura spoke.

"Hi there, Izumo-kun. Where's Kotetsu-kun?" she greeted him. It was rare to see one of them without the other. Izumo, with a weary expression, shook his head.

"Hey there, Sakura-san. He's out with appendicitis, lucky bastard. This is our temp," Izumo said as he jabbed a thumb at the perplexed young man sitting next to him.

"Go right in. Boss is in a terrifying mood. Seeing you should cheer him right up," continued Izumo.

"I wonder about that," Sakura murmured as she walked on. She pushed past the double doors and into the large office with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered up a splendid view of bustling downtown Konoha. There was a large wooden desk facing away from the windows that was so clean that it almost looked like no one used it at all. In front of the desk was an arrangement of four leather armchairs in a square with one coffee table in the middle. There were currently two employees sitting in those chairs, backs straight and knees together as if waiting for an executioner. They looked up with wide eyes at her unannounced entrance. The president's assistant, standing next to the desk, practically jumped in the air when their eyes met. His wide stare darted frantically from her and to the imposing figure of man in a well-cut black suit standing with his back to them.

"If your work continues to be this sloppy, I'll have no choice but to fire you! See that this error is addressed immediately. You almost lost this company millions of dollars!" barked Itachi into the phone before he disconnected the call. Breathing in deeply through his nostrils, he turned and dropped the phone into his assistant's waiting hand. His dark eyes opened and immediately fell on Sakura standing at the door, her expression neutral. He circled a finger in the air before he turned his attention to his employees. The assistant looked as if he might pass out from fear as he caught the action and then stared at Sakura.

That was Itachi's signal for "Not now. Come back later" and his shaking assistant seemed well aware of how dangerous such a careless motion was. But Sakura gave him a reassuring smile and simply skirted around the edge of the room until she reached Itachi's desk. She perched on the edge of it and undid the belt of her trench coat. She caught Itachi's exasperated glance but ignored it, deciding to wait right there instead.

"Now, the reason you two exist is to make sure mistakes like this are caught. And the way you've handled this situation shows me that you're not fulfilling your purposes," Itachi stated in a quieter but equally deadly voice. Sakura could practically see the poor people struggling not to burst into tears right there. The assistant stood frantically texting, his gaze darting rapidly from his phone to Sakura several times. She heard a set of beeps coming from Itachi's personal phone. The text, no doubt, that he glanced at and immediately silenced.

Sakura pursed her lips.

"I don't remember anything about incompetence being a part of your job descriptions. So tell me what could have possibly caused this ridiculous oversight on both your parts?" he demanded. The phone beeped again and he silenced it without even looking at it this time. The assistant looked like he wanted to jump out the window right then and there.

"There are plenty of qualified people in this company waiting to take your jobs. And-" The phone beeped again and Itachi glared down at it.

"What could possibly be so urgent that you're texting me while I am speaking, Kabuto?" Itachi seethed as he whirled around to look at his bespectacled assistant. Unable to form words, Kabuto hid most of his face behind his planner as he pointed an unstable finger at Sakura. It was only then that Itachi felt the sizzle of Sakura's hard stare on the back of his head. He turned and found her still smiling, only her eyes were the shade of acid, glaring so piercingly that he felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck.

"Itachi, I'm warning you that I'm about to seriously lose my temper soon. Give me five minutes or I guarantee I will make a very ugly scene," she warned in an even tone. Even so, her stare belied the extent of her anger. Itachi's eyes very briefly moved back to his cowering employees.

"Right now? I'm in the middle of a situation right now, Sakura. This really can't wait until later?" he said. Her jaw twitched ever so slightly before she leaned back on her hands. Her answer was clear. Letting out a sigh, Itachi checked his watch and then put his hands on his hips to listen.

"I realize that you warned me that you would be very busy this week so I understand we haven't spent much time together. I even understand you getting home late or spending nights at the office," Sakura began in a soft voice. The employees being disciplined twitched toward the door, undoubtedly sensing that this was about to become a very private conversation. But Itachi's glare pinned them in place. He quickly looked back at Sakura, who had stopped speaking until she had his full attention again.

"That's why, I told you that I was fine with that. So what did you say to me?"

"Well, you said you were a little upset about not getting to see me so I said we should have lunch this week," replied Itachi. Suddenly Sakura's stare sharpened until it looked like she could stab someone with just a look. Her smile dropped.

"I have an eidetic memory, Itachi, so don't try any of that crap with me. You said that you didn't want to neglect me so you promised we would have lunch together. You called the restaurant that night and made a reservation," Sakura continued on in a steelier voice. Itachi's hands moved down to slip into his pockets, his shoulders dropping slightly.

"Okay, yes. I promised lunch. And we're still on for lunch," he answered.

"Lunch. Wednesday at noon. At Moon Spring. Lunch," Sakura simply said. At this, a hiss rose from the two employees listening in. Itachi glanced over at them with a mixture of confusion and irritation.

"Yeah, I know. I haven't forgotten, Sakura. I even made a note in my calendar," Itachi assured her with clear exasperation as he held up his personal phone. Arms folded over her chest, Sakura leveled him with a long stare. Her lips curled up into a tight smile.

"…It's 2:30, Itachi. It's 2:30 on Wednesday right now," she finally told him. A scoff left Itachi. He shook his head. But when he saw Kabuto's face frozen with horror, Itachi looked down at his phone again. The date was clearly written in white letters on the home screen. He swiped his finger to unlock the phone and quickly browsed through his calendar. In bright red letters, there was a missed appointment: _Lunch with Sakura at noon_.

"2:30, Itachi," Sakura repeated, "I sat in that restaurant for two hours, waiting."

"Oh shit," one of the employees whispered.

Itachi didn't even speak. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Suddenly Kabuto's deer-in-headlights act and his frantic attempts to get his attention for the past two hours all made sense. Hands already rising in a pacifying gesture, Itachi slowly looked up to meet Sakura's hard gaze.

"Did you at least eat something there?" he finally asked. Kabuto smacked his palm to his forehead while the other two employees slowly shook their heads. Unwise choice of first words.

"No. I did not eat anything at the restaurant where I was stood up," Sakura ground out.

"Sakura, you know how irritable you get when your blood sugar is low," Itachi tried to reason with her.

"_Irritable_? I get irritable? Try, I get fucking angry when I wait for two hours for someone who obviously can't tear himself away from work for one second to look at his phone. I called you twice," Sakura snapped. When Itachi opened his mouth to reply, Sakura's glower stopped him.

"You were the one that asked me to lunch. I didn't ask you. I didn't beg for your attention. **You** were the one that promised me you would have the time," Sakura reminded him. Itachi rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes in a tired gesture.

"Sakura, I'm really sorry, but I've just been so swamped-" Itachi said in a low voice. Sakura cut him off. Pointing a finger at the curve of her stomach, Sakura felt her cheeks getting flushed from just how angry she was.

"Uchiha Itachi, I have gained **19 extra pounds** in the past six months and I'm going to push your child out of my vagina in less than three! The least you can do is answer my calls!" growled Sakura. It was completely silent in the office.

"Do you have any idea how humiliating it is for a pregnant woman to sit in a restaurant by herself for two hours and not have her date show up? I have never been looked at with such pity before in my entire life. And on top of that, I had to reschedule my two afternoon appointments so I need to go to work on Saturday when I should be having my weekend to rest," she continued in a more level voice. Sucking in a shaky breath, Sakura abruptly looked away from him. She picked up her wristlet and then managed to slide off the edge of the desk. Retying her coat just emphasized the size of her stomach. She turned back to fix Itachi with a flat look.

"There. 5 minutes, like I promised. I'm going home. Call me if you're coming for dinner. Or don't. Whatever," she sniffed before she headed out through the double doors. Itachi stood staring for a few seconds before he was hurrying after her.

"Sakura, hold on," Itachi called out as he followed her brisk steps. He burst out of his office too, just barely keeping from running.

"Stay. I'll wrap things up and we can go eat," he said when she stopped at the elevator. Jabbing at the down arrow, Sakura pretended not to hear him.

"Or I'll come home early for dinner. I'll take you out to that Thai place you love so much," he suggested. There was a ding and then the reflective doors slid open. When he grabbed her wrist, Sakura tilted her head over her shoulder to fix him with a chilling glare.

"I can't just let you go home alone. You always say not to drive when you're upset," said Itachi.

"Hearing this from a man who stands up his pregnant wife isn't all that convincing. Let me go," Sakura coldly replied. Pulling out of his grasp, she stepped into the elevator and glared at him until the doors slid shut on him.

Itachi stood staring at the elevator for a long time, looking like someone had just kicked him in the face. Kabuto tentatively came out of the office to join him. He held out the personal phone, asking his boss if he wanted to try calling his irate wife. Itachi shook his head, knowing Sakura wouldn't pick up. Crouching down, Itachi raked his hands through his dark hair.

"Kabuto," he said after a length, voice muffled by his arms.

"Yes, sir?" Kabuto replied while pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Call a florist and have them arrange some sort of apology bouquet. Make sure they don't smell really strong and… make it expensive," ordered Itachi in a weary voice.

"Of course, sir," Kabuto answered as he began jotting down the notes in his planner.

"Actually, make that 10 bouquets. And then run out and get me an espresso, Kabuto," finished Itachi in a sigh.

There was no way Sakura was letting him in the door with anything less than a garden bursting out of his arms tonight.


	29. Awkward

Awkward

(for itasaku week)

"Have some tea," Itachi said as he set the cup in front of her. Hands folded in her lap, Sakura bowed politely, her eyes never meeting his. She didn't make any move to drink the beverage either.

"Sasuke should be back soon," he added. When he settled on the other end of the sofa, Sakura felt her shoulders tense up.

It had all started out with one bad decision. Instead of staying in bed for an extra hour, Sakura had decided to go to work early. She popped in to greet Tsunade and found her teacher suffering from a severe hangover. In an innocent attempt to be helpful, the foolish words:

"What can I do?" had escaped Sakura's mouth.

So here she was.

She had somehow agreed to deliver confidential files to Sasuke and apparently the matter was so grave that she had to get them to him as quickly as possible. All of this would have been fine and well. She would have dropped by Sasuke's apartment, shoved the files into his arms, reminded him of their team spar for tomorrow, and gone off to the hospital.

But it was just before New Year's. And like the good son he was, Sasuke was staying at his parents' house to celebrate. And so was his older brother.

His much hotter older brother whom Sakura had never been able to speak to.

With his parents out at some meeting for the clan, there had only been Itachi at home when she had visited.

"Sasuke's at Jounin HQ signing some paperwork. He should be home soon. Please, have a seat," Itachi had told her.

That had been ten minutes ago and the sheer amount of discomfort Sakura was feeling was not something easily articulated.

Sakura stared blankly at the wisps of steam rising from the cup. The smell of green tea did little to soothe her fraying nerves.

"You don't have to sit with me. I don't want to bother you," she finally managed to say after a minute.

"It would be rude for me to leave a guest by herself. Today's a day off for me anyway," Itachi smoothly assured her. She fell silent again. Never had she met with such blunt chivalry. They looked away from each other until Itachi tried to break the stifling atmosphere this time.

"I read your paper on genetics and hereditary illness the other day," he brought up. Sakura almost broke her neck swiveling her head to stare at him. She had never expected someone like Itachi to be perusing through the pages of magazines like "Shinobi Science".

"I thought it was very interesting," he added.

"…Thank you," Sakura managed to say.

The dreaded silence returned.

"Um…so… any interesting missions lately?" she brought up in an attempt to strike up a real conversation. At this, Itachi cleared his throat.

"Well, most of that is classified so it's not something I can share so easily," replied Itachi.

"Ah," was all she said.

They played this stilted game of verbal ping pong for a while until Sasuke finally came home. When he walked into the living room, he arched an eyebrow at Sakura.

"What're you doing here? I thought you had work today," he said to Sakura without greeting her. He lifted a hand toward his brother for a moment. His gaze darted from his brother to his teammate before a smirk pulled at his mouth. Dropping down on the sofa between the two of them, he looked expectantly toward Sakura.

"Files from Tsunade-sama. She said not to let anyone else see them. Probably pictures of you from the Christmas party," she teased as she dropped the heavy folder into his lap. Not batting an eye, Sasuke reached over and tweaked her nose.

"Stupid. You were the one waving lettuce around and calling it mistletoe. You would've made out with Rock Lee if Naruto and I hadn't saved you," he jabbed right back. Sakura punched him in the arm and from the sound, it hadn't been exactly a gentle blow.

"Jerk. Listen, I'm heading back to the hospital so I'll see you tomorrow. And don't be late or we'll never hear the end of Naruto's nagging," she said as she stood up. Sasuke stood too, tucking the folder under his left arm as he began walking her to the door. For some reason, Itachi followed too and Sakura suddenly remembered his presence. She flushed as she realized he had heard about her embarrassing shenanigans at the Christmas party the week before. To be fair, everyone had had too much to drink but Sasuke's refined brother just seemed like the last person to chug beer and let loose at a party.

Suddenly feeling horribly self-conscious again, she shoved her feet into her boots.

"Later," she muttered before she slipped out the door and was running to the hospital.

As soon as she was gone, Sasuke was cracking the folder open.

"Shouldn't you wait until I'm out of the room, little brother?" inquired Itachi with a chuckle. Sasuke snorted.

"Secret files, my ass. I did a little favor for the Hokage in exchange for these," explained Sasuke, showing his brother the array of folders stacked inside. There were shots of red-faced people clutching beers and singing karaoke. The siblings stood shuffling through the rather embarrassing photos until they got to one that made Sasuke turn bright red.

It was Sakura, actually holding a leaf of lettuce and making a kissing face for the camera. Her low-cut black cami, paired with her pose squished her breasts together, creating ample cleavage. And the smoldering look in her kohl-rimmed eyes was not helping the situation. As Sasuke moved to quickly rifle past that one, Itachi picked it out of the pile.

"Can I keep this?" Itachi asked.

Sasuke quickly snatched it back, stuffing it into the folder before slamming the whole file shut.

"No. If Sakura finds out you have that, she'll skin me alive," Sasuke promptly responded. Itachi raised his eyebrows.

"Skin you. Really?" he repeated, not believing that the timid, blushing girl would be capable of frightening Sasuke like that. But the dead serious stare Sasuke fixed him with convinced him otherwise. Stroking his chin, Itachi wondered how he could convince his baby brother to hang onto that photograph.


	30. Death

The last prompt out of all the ones provided for Itasaku week. Truthfully I wanted to publish this as a longer story but I sort of truncated it because I ran out of time. Somebodylost asked for me to make this one funny but it's actually only worth half a chuckle at the end. Oh well, many thanks for all the positive feedback I've been getting this week. It's been a fun exercise spitting all of these out like a machine but now it's most likely back to irregular updates for all.

* * *

><p><span>Death<span>

(for itasaku week)

"A gift from His Majesty the King."

Eyes the color of unpolished jade flickered up. A light hum left her red lips as she surveyed the visitors.

"What's Grandfather trying to butter me up for? Is it more jewels? I've had quite enough of those," she sighed. But then her gaze flickered from the familiar face of the servant to the one standing slightly further back. Setting her goblet down on the table, she crossed one leg over the other. The bracelets around her right ankle jingled with the movement.

"Your Royal Highness, this is a slave from the southern desert. His tribe is very nearly extinct so he is somewhat of a rarity," the servant explained. Her eyebrows rose. Cradling the goblet in her palms, she motioned for him to continue.

"His people are said to have the most beautiful voices," the man added.

Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed her gift once more. Then her sharp stare whipped over to the servant. He flinched visibly.

"Send my thanks," she said in a tone that was also clearly a dismissal. With a bow, the servant backed out of the room slowly, not daring to show his back to her. When the doors swung shut, she immediately sunk low into her throne. A sullen pout pulled at her mouth. She handed off the goblet to one of her servants and then stretched, hooking her legs over one of the armrests while pressing her back against the other.

"Lower the curtains. The sun's giving me a terrible headache today," she said with a flick of her wrist. Shielding her eyes with one hand, she tilted her head to look at the man still standing in front of the doors.

"You. Sit down. It hurts my neck to look up at you," she ordered. To her surprise, he promptly knelt down on the tile floor. There were a couple hushed titters from the servants that were promptly silenced by one look from her.

"Not there, you lummox," she amended, pointing at the square rug arranged with pillows a few paces in front of him. He silently stood and then moved to sit cross-legged on that place instead. As soon as the airy white curtains fell to block out the worst of the light, she moved her hand.

"A slave, hm? I haven't owned one of those in a while. Do you have a brand?" she inquired with a faint smile. The flicker of his dark eyes from the floor and up to her was so brief that she almost missed it. Crooking two fingers, she motioned for him to come forward. He stood, shoulders hunching and eyes focused on the ground. When he stumbled forward, she finally noticed the thick metal cuffs bound around each of his ankles. She knew that there would be spikes on the insides, cutting into the flesh to make sure he wouldn't run. But then her gaze moved up to his downcast face. His left cheek was bruised, lip split and crusted with dried blood. A battered visage, one that she found she didn't exactly dislike.

"Show me," she murmured, running her fingertips along his uninjured cheek.

Tucking both his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, he pulled the right edge down to reveal a raised circle of skin. A brand in the pattern of a fan.

"A rarity like the old geezer said," she remarked. She extended her hand to the side, waiting. One of the servants ran forward with a long, narrow smoking pipe. With a flick of a lighter, the tobacco was lit and a faint grey haze rose from the end. Pressing the metal tip against her tongue, she regarded the man in front of her once again.

"Your name?" she queried. His lips never parted. She admired the shape of them, mashed together and a little on the thin side. He lifted his left arm, showing off the creature tattooed there. A weasel twisted up in faded black ink, its pointy teeth bared.

"Itachi, then. Do you know who I am? Do you know where this is?"

Itachi lowered his arm as he shook his head.

"This is the palace in the holy city of Konoha. I am the First Princess of the royal family of Haruno," she explained. When he simply nodded mutely, she clicked her tongue. Reaching out with her left foot, she nudged him in the gut with her big toe. The fabric of her slit skirt fell off her leg, revealing her pale skin. She followed the path of his startled gaze as it ran down her leg and then back to the ground. At least she had his attention now.

"The Haruno clan has been in control of Fire Country for many centuries for one reason. It was founded by a demon. That blood runs through the veins of the clan. Every generation, that demon is born back in one of its children," she continued. Finally, he lifted his head to stare into her face. Not lowering her foot, she let her head fall back against her throne. With a lazy smile curling her lips, she felt the feathery black wings unfurling from her shoulder blades. They spread to their full size, towering over her and nearly smacking one of the passing servants in the process.

"My name is Azrael. I am the angel of death. But you can call me Sakura. That's what my parents named me, anyway," she introduced herself. The blank surprise in his stare wasn't bad, she decided.

* * *

><p>Itachi was silent. And not silent in the taciturn, cool manner Sakura usually found attractive. His voice never came out. It never mattered whether she asked him a direct question or if she tried to coax words out of him with her usual persuasive tactics. The only time she saw his lips part was when he sometimes drew out a soundless sigh. And even then, his stubborn gaze was never unguarded.<p>

That didn't bother Sakura so much, though.

She had grown awfully bored with the lavish solitude in the palace as of late. And if anything, this oddity was enough to amuse her.

"The entire east wing of this palace is mine so feel free to walk around," she told him the first day. She suddenly stopped walking, pointing at the double doors down at the far end of the hallway. Grabbing the front of his dirty shirt, she stared him in the eyes.

"Do not go past those doors without me. You don't need to deal with that filth out there on your own," she firmly stated. Only when he nodded did she release his shirt. And then, staring down at her palm, she felt her upper lip curl. When she snapped her fingers, two servants seemed to detach themselves from the walls. They had been standing so still and their outfits matched the patterns so well.

"Clothes. And a bath," she ordered, her eyes barely acknowledging the servants. But the smile she fixed him with was undeniably warm and it wasn't a feeling she could easily explain.

She garbed him in the richest fabrics available. She set him up in the second largest apartment in the wing, the first being her own. The amount of gifts she lavished him with was remarkable and they only seemed to pile up each day. But still his stoic expression greeted her each morning and the frustration started to trigger irritation in her.

"What can I do to make you happy?" Sakura demanded one day as she draped herself over her throne, propping her chin up in her hand. Itachi, standing to her right in his customary position, didn't answer. His dark eyes widened at the question though. When he shook his head a little, an exasperated noise flapped her lips.

"You mean you don't actually want anything from me?" she interpreted. Itachi nodded. As she continued to scowl, her wings twisted out from her back, fluttering around her in agitated movements. They folded around her, hiding her entire body from him in a downy swath of shining black feathers.

"Go away then. I don't want to see your face for a while," was all she told him.

After a minute, she felt something flutter at the tips of her wings. Looking down, she saw the top of his dark hair. He ducked beneath the edges of her wings to sit at the foot of her throne. Resting his head against the side of her thigh, he looked up at her with a clear expression. He reached up to touch the arm holding her chin up and then lightly patted his hair once. She couldn't help but smirk a little.

"How dare a mere slave like you ask me to stroke your head?" she scoffed as she ran her fingers through his silken locks.

She didn't quite understand his logic but she allowed him to sit there for a long time. She petted his loose black hair until the soothing movement lulled her into sleep. She awoke several hours later on the throne, her fingers still resting on his head as he sat wordlessly admiring her plumage.

A strange man, he was.

"Will you be dining with His Majesty the King, Your Highness?" the servants asked each night. And her eyes drifting listlessly around the room, she would refuse.

"No. I'll eat here with Itachi. Now go away. You bore me," Sakura drawled, turning her head away.

He dined at the same table as her, raising some eyebrows the first night she had insisted upon the arrangement. Sitting across from her, Itachi had simply stared down at the steaming platters of roast goose and steamed quail's eggs. His dumbfounded eyes looked at the slices of plump orange glistening in the salad. They were delicacies imported in from island colonies to the east.

"Is anything not to your liking?" queried Sakura. He shook his head, bangs falling into his eyes. It took her a few moments before she realized what was wrong. Chair legs scraping across the floor startled the servants. Sakura moved to sit in the chair directly to Itachi's left. Leaning over, she pointed at each of the dishes, explaining the animals and how to eat each one in a soft voice. Her fingers settled over his hand which had been clenching nervously into the armrest. When their eyes met, she realized for the first time, Itachi was smiling at her.

In the mornings, she took her bath. Lounging in a pool big enough for her to swim around in, she let the servants shower her with flower petals and drench her hair in special fragranced oils that smelled of spice and springtime.

Just to tease him, one day, she called Itachi in. He approached, eyes lowered and face faintly flushed. The mixture of bubbles and rose petals floating on top of the water covered her body well enough but he still didn't dare to look.

"Come here," she requested, swimming up to the edge. Resting her arms on the tiled side, she watched him with a benign smile. He stopped just in front of her, his fingers knotted together behind him. He was wearing a light blue tunic- a color, she decided, that suited him well.

"You know, I've heard rumors that they give special treatment to slaves sold to royalty. In order to make sure nothing interferes with things like bloodlines and inheritance, they're supposedly rendered… harmless," she purred. Her wet leg emerged from the water, reaching upwards. With a devious grin, she pressed her toes to his crotch. But what she found made her cheeks flush a little too. She could feel the rigidness under her foot, feel a faint heat and even a throbbing that suddenly embarrassed her.

"…Or not," she quickly said. She lowered her foot, almost sorry for the wet stain she had left on the front of his fine tunic. Itachi gritted his teeth, neck and cheeks turning bright red. She reached up with both hands, cupping his face in her palms. He stared down at her, gaze burning.

"I honestly thought they had…well…" she drifted off when he averted his stare. Her thumbs lightly traced over the scars under his eyes.

"I was being cruel. I'm sorry," Sakura whispered, tilting his face to press a light kiss to the corner of his frowning mouth. His expression relaxed somewhat and it seemed that she had been forgiven. They never mentioned the incident again except the one time she brought it up during lunch the same day.

They sat side by side now at meals, so close that sometimes their elbows would touch. Sakura set her fork down, simply watching Itachi tear into his fire-roasted venison. The way he dug into his meals was unrefined and it often made the servants wrinkle their noses. But Sakura suspected he had gone hungry one too many times to care how food got into his mouth as long as it ended up in his stomach somehow.

"Itachi," she called. He raised his head, chewing on a large mouthful of meat.

"I can arrange for a courtesan to visit you for your needs. There are plenty and beautiful girls-" Sakura stopped when Itachi's curious gaze warped into a glare.

"What a cheeky slave. Very well, I won't ask again," she laughed into her soup. His glare, she decided, was her second favorite expression on him. The first was one of those rare smiles that revealed a tiny dimple in his right cheek.

* * *

><p>"Hey."<p>

Itachi sleepily lifted his head. They had been lying on the thick pile of tapestries and pillows set up on the terrace. The night breeze was soft and slightly muggy. Lifting her goblet to her lips, Sakura took a sip of sweet wine.

"Let's take a walk," she said, her gaze far away. Slipping her hand into his, Sakura handed off the cup to a random servant and led Itachi out into the echoing corridor. His sandals slapped against the stone while her bare feet padded softly beside him. The lanterns lighting the way cast strange, phantom shadows along the walls and floor. When they pushed past the doors, they were met with a silent palace. It was past midnight and everyone else was sleeping.

Even in the dark, her footsteps were sure. She led him through twisting corridors, her fingers linking to his so loosely that she almost felt him slipping from her a couple times. But when they arrived, she breathed in a deep breath that seemed to fill her own body. With a wan smile, she reached over and twisted the little knob on the side of the lamp to release the gas. The tiny flame flared up bright enough to illuminate the large painting beside it.

"Itachi, meet my husband," she breathed.

It was a painted portrait of a woman with long pink hair tumbling down her shoulders. Her piercing eyes were painted lucid green that seemed to shine through the canvas. The flowing fabric of her white dress was glittering with jewels and strands of pearls draped across her figure. To her left was a man with jet black hair and even darker irises. The cruel point of his chin clashed with the softness of his round eyes. His regal garments, complete with fur-trimmed cape and shining gold tassels screamed the title of king.

Itachi stood just analyzing the painting for a long time.

"He's the reason I'm stuck in this cycle, you know. On his deathbed, he asked me to watch over our family. How could I refuse such a foolish man?" sighed Sakura. She could feel Itachi's hand on her shoulder, a silent "why" lingering in his touch.

"I came to reap him one day. But he didn't beg like everyone else. He just kind of stared at me with these eyes that had given up on the whole world," Sakura murmured. She turned to look at Itachi now.

"You have the same eyes," she added with a sad smile.

Wordlessly, the retreated back to the east wing of the palace. Sakura soaked in the bath for a long time, still wearing her dress and staring off into space. It was only when she was starting to doze off that she let Itachi lift her out of the water. Wrapping her in towels, he carried her to her bed, falling asleep curled up on the floor by her feet.

* * *

><p>One month after Itachi arrived, the king brazenly asked for Sakura's attendance at dinner. When the summons arrived, the trembling messenger didn't dare to meet the princess' eyes. Tapping the excess ash out of the tip of her pipe, Sakura let out a bored noise between parted lips. She sucked in a deep breath of fragrant smoke and let it out through her nostrils.<p>

"What do you think, Itachi? Fancy a dinner with the King?" she asked. When Itachi nodded, Sakura seemed satisfied.

"Alright, then. I'll come to dinner. But only if a place is saved for my dear friend," she answered. The messenger looked horrified at the prospect of having a slave sit at the same table as the king. It was probably his fear that propelled him to bow and leave the room anyway.

Sakura changed out of her light dress with airy fabric and simple floral designs. In fact, she shed her clothes altogether and only pulled on a dark red robe. She tied the belt at her waist and then fluffed her hair to let it fall around her face and throat in soft curls. She shrugged and the silken fabric slipped off her right shoulder. The bells on her ankle bracelets and the stacks of gold bracelets on her right wrist jingled softly each time she moved. She exited her room even as her handmaidens sprayed perfume on her hair and sleeves.

When they arrived at the dining hall a few minutes later, a gasp left the Princess Consort's mouth. Sakura's brother's wife, some boring noblewoman with shining golden hair, glared outright. She was all primped up in a frilly purple dress that covered her up to her neck and down to her wrists. Sakura's brother, red-haired and regal in his military uniform, sat straight-backed.

"Ah, welcome, Princess. We've been waiting for you," the King greeted her. At his left, the Queen Consort smiled wanly. Her grey eyes rested on Itachi for a moment too long but her wrinkled mouth said nothing.

The spot to the King's right was left empty for her, as well as an additional spot next to that one. They sat while the others simply watched in stony silence. Sakura licked her lips as she looked around the table. And then, letting out a tired sigh that almost seemed to be her signature, she reached her empty left hand out. When a servant ran to deliver her pipe, the Queen Consort frowned.

"Smoking at a meal, and in front of the King, no less, does not exactly seem proper, Princess," she commented in a stern tone. Sakura's gaze darkened at this. Eyes narrowing into a glower, she purposely lifted the pipe up to take a deep drag of smoke. She blew out the wisps in a thin stream in the direction of the Queen Consort with a sickly sweet smile.

"Don't forget your place, you insolent worm. How dare a filthy human with dirty blood speak in my presence?" Sakura replied in such a warm voice that it almost didn't register how cutting her words were for a moment.

"Now, Princess, I realize that the Queen Consort is not your blood grandmother but taking such a tone with her is a little rude," the King chuckled nervously. Sakura's eyelashes lowered until it almost looked like her eyes were closed. Looking down at her pipe, she ran her fingertip along the smooth wood.

"And you, thin-blooded fool that buckles to his lover, you dare open your mouth as well? What would my dear husband say when he saw the sad state of his bloodline? You squander this family's riches on gifts for her while your people suffer outside these gilded walls," Sakura continued in an equally level voice. There was a collective gulp from everyone else, except Itachi. He simply watched her facial expressions twisting with such utter disdain that it almost didn't look like her.

"How sickening. How do you expect me to enjoy a meal with your sorry faces staring at me like that? Serve the food," snapped Sakura. The servants darted forward to fill the table with silver trays of tender meats and fragrant bread. Only Itachi seemed intent on filling his stomach as he feasted on the exotic birds and glistening pigs. The sound of his crunching seemed to grate on the Prince's nerves. But when his gold eyes flitted to Itachi's face, he caught the edge of Sakura's smirk.

"You like him? He's my new toy," she stated.

"And you dare to bring this slave in front of Grandfather? A subhuman? There's a limit to your rudeness, Azrael," the Prince snarled. Eyes widening, the King looked ready to interrupt but Sakura only raised her eyebrows as she took another breath from her pipe.

"What's the difference? Grandfather's taken a commoner as his wife. A former courtesan, at that. And your wife is nothing but a lower noble. How are they that much different from my dearest Itachi?"

At this, both women mentioned bristled.

"I will not stand for this rudeness!"

"Neither will I! Please excuse me!"

With that, the women had flounced off. The Prince dropped his napkin and muttered something before hurrying after his wife. And the King, casting sad eyes toward Sakura, shook his head.

"Why do this, Sakura? We're family," he sighed in a ragged voice. A wide smile curled Sakura's mouth. She didn't talk back, only let her wings unfurl. They flared out behind her, dark feathers glittering.

"Make no mistake, Your Majesty, when the time comes, I will reap your soul. I have been Azrael long before I was Sakura," she warned with a frosty edge to her voice.

When the King had finally left, Sakura put her elbow up on the table. She put her chin in her palm as she turned to Itachi. He was busy cramming fluffy squares of cornbread into his mouth.

"As I thought, dinner with the two of us is much more fun. Right?" she sighed.

Itachi paused his eating to look her in the eye. Picking up another piece of cornbread, he shoved it into her mouth. Startled and very amused, Sakura laughed as she ate too.

* * *

><p>A year sped by.<p>

The King passed away. The Queen Consort was cast out of the castle just before his end. He had desired absolution before death and there was no way to attain this with a former prostitute of a wife around. She had never produced an heir either so there was no real way for her to have grabbed onto her position anyway.

The Prince's coronation was soon after.

Sakura didn't attend the ceremony and neither did Itachi. Lounging around in the east wing, they ate freshly-picked grapes and read through books sent as a gift by a foreign king. They looked through wares brought by traveling merchants, indulged in imported sweets, and spent the nights staring up at the stars in the sky.

The years flowed that way and one day, Sakura watched Itachi as he sat across the chess board from her, carefully planning out his next move.

"Hey you," she abruptly said. His concentration broken, Itachi looked up.

"Why don't you become the Prince Consort? Nothing will change. You won't have to move. It'll just keep the servants and courtiers from jabbering about you all the time," Sakura suggested in her usual blasé tone. She watched bright pink filter into his cheeks. Fingers still pinching the top of the bishop, Itachi looked from her down to the board. Her lips puckered as she surveyed him.

"By the way, if we're getting married, you should probably try saying something to me. I mean, I accepted you because you were supposed to have a beautiful voice. There's a limit to playing coy, you know," Sakura added. At this, the blush faded from Itachi's face. Tilting his head to one side, he pointed at his throat.

Normally Sakura was good at puzzling out his gestures. But this time, she didn't quite understand what Itachi was trying to convey. Seeing the confusion in her gaze, Itachi pointed at his own mouth and then shook his head. He gestured toward his throat again and then made an X with both his arms.

"What, you don't like your voice?" she guessed. When Itachi shook his head, Sakura got out of her seat. Looping around the chess table, Sakura grabbed Itachi's chin to tilt his head up. When she squinted, she saw a thick white scar across the skin on his neck.

"You…you actually can't speak?" Sakura finally uttered. Itachi nodded.

"You've stuck around for almost four years and you mean you haven't been physically able to talk this whole time?" she confirmed. Itachi nodded again. Flabbergasted, Sakura released his chin and then threw her arms up into the air.

"All this time, and you never told me," she complained. At this, Itachi leveled her with an equally exasperated expression.

"What's with this attitude? You've gotten even cheekier than you were," Sakura growled. Unaffected by her scary expression, Itachi smiled. He reached up, palms touching her cheeks. An eye roll answered his actions.

"I guess that can't be helped. If you don't have a voice, you can't snore, at least," commented Sakura with a thoughtful look. It was Itachi's turn to roll his eyes. A mischievous look lit up her face as her gaze flitted to him again.

"I'm glad you're not a eunuch, by the way," she teased just a little. And it was worth it to watch his face brighten with pink again as he glared.


	31. Babysitting

Babysitting

(suggested by 3vil-Sakura)

"Eh? Sacchan, you're going home early today?"

"Come on, Sacchan, it's no fun if you're not there."

Kisame dug his pinky into his ear with an exaggerated sigh.

"Man, those freshmen guys are loud," he grumbled. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands behind his head. Beside him, Sasori glanced up from his handheld game for a minute. The little electric beeps and pings continued on as he kept hitting the buttons.

"Yeah, I wonder who they're talking to. Geez, they're so persistent," Sasori complained too. At this, their gazes flickered to Deidara sitting on top of his desk right next to the window. Hands in his pockets, he gave them a smug look. Deidara jabbed with his thumb toward the windows with his eyebrows raised. Shrugging, Kisame got up from his chair to go peer outside. Sasori hesitated for a moment and then paused his game to stand to Kisame's right. Forearms pressed to the sill and one foot crossed over the other, Sasori stared down.

From the second floor, it was easy to see some students sitting outside during lunch break. There was a group of them lounging around in the grass under a big cherry tree. Someone had thought to spread a blanket down on the ground where the girls were sitting. The guys stretched out on the sun-warmed grass across from them to form a circle. Collars opened, sleeves rolled up- it was easy to see who they were just from the violations in the school dress code.

"Hey, isn't that your brother?" asked Sasori as he looked over his shoulder. Kisame turned too. Itachi was tilted back in his chair with his feet propped up on his desk. With a book placed over his face, it almost looked like he was sleeping. But then he exhaled slowly and sat up straight. The book fell into his lap to reveal a half-dazed expression. Itachi slid out of his seat and stood to sidle up to Sasori's right. Pressing his arm to the wall, he peered down at the lunch scene.

Indeed, it was Sasuke in the middle of the guys. His spiky mess of dark hair stood out against the flower-blanketed ground. The glint of his silver necklaces was easy to spot too. Leaning back on his right hand, Sasuke laughed at something. With him were Naruto and Sai, his best friends since he had been a crybaby still wetting the bed from nightmares. Kiba and Neji were there too. They had formed a tightly-knit group after meeting in middle school and the five had been inseparable ever since. It was their voices Itachi and friends had been hearing through the window. Losing interest quickly, Itachi turned his attention to the girls sitting across from them. He vaguely recognized their faces from around school but then he spotted the one sitting directly across from his brother.

"What? No way! You guys are too lame to hang out with," she laughed.

"Ah! You're terrible, Sacchan!" Naruto chortled.

"Who's that one? The one sitting between Ponytail and Dango?" Itachi inquired. Deidara craned his neck to get a look.

"That's Haruno Sakura. Class 1-B, yeah. Her friends call her Sacchan, though," Deidara proudly informed him. He tapped his temple, as if to needlessly remind them that once he saw someone, he never forgot their face and the name to go along with it. It was his useless talent. Sasori's was to fall asleep at precisely midnight every day. Kisame picked things up with his toes. And Itachi had managed to live 17 years without ever catching a cold.

"Wow. That name's kind of amazing- especially with that head," Sasori remarked while eyeing her hair. It was carnation pink and fell around her face in soft curls. The top button of her shirt was left undone and her skirt was pulled up a little bit higher than school regulations demanded. Her legs were crossed straight in front of her with her lunchbox resting on top of her thighs.

Sasuke grabbed a handful of petals and lobbed it them at her, showering her in bits of white. Squealing with laughter, she threw a bunch back at him. She fussed with her long hair, combing her fingers through.

"Aw, give me a break! This'll never come out," she complained. She reached over to swat at Sasuke's leg. But still they all laughed together and Itachi found that he couldn't really tear his stare away from her. Deidara's eyes were too sharp. He gave Itachi's side a nudge with his elbow and then gestured toward her with his chin. Deidara cupped his hands around his mouth as he leaned out the window.

"Oi! Sacchan!" he called. Still giggling, Sakura raised her head toward the voice.

"What're you doing rolling around in the flowers like that?" Deidara asked. Sakura took a moment to pout toward Sasuke again.

"I wasn't, Deidara-senpai! This bully's been assaulting me!" she yelled back. To prove her point, Sasuke sprinkled the top of her head with more petals.

"Hey, can you come up here for a second? I want to talk to you about Monday's club meeting," Deidara requested.

"She's in the pottery club?" asked Kisame. Sasori shrugged.

"Okay! Be there in a second!" Sakura brightly answered. As she got to her feet, one of her friends lightly tugged on the bottom of her skirt.

"I'm coming too. I need to buy some milk from the vending machine," she said. Sakura offered her hand to pull the girl to her feet. When they turned to leave, Sakura paused for a moment, foot hovering in the air. Then she scooped up a big armful of flowers and threw them on top of Sasuke, completely covering the top of his head.

"HEY!" Sasuke exclaimed. Sniggering, Sakura took her friend's hand and escaped into the building, leaving Sasuke to pick through his hair during the rest of lunch break.

"Deidara, what are you doing?" sighed Itachi.

"Introducing my friend to a cutie. Relax, Itachi, yeah," replied Deidara. With the least subtle wink in the world, Deidara settled back on top of the desk, his legs swinging freely as he waited. A couple minutes later, the classroom door slid open. Sakura walked in, still trying to brush petals out of her hair. Her friend was nowhere to be seen.

"Did you talk to Kakashi about that club trip we wanted to organize for next month?" Deidara asked in a surprisingly serious tone while waving her over. He shoved his feet against his chair, pulling it out from the desk for her to sit.

"Eh? Pirate-sensei said he wanted to see an itinerary first. I thought we should plan that out next week with Nara-kun and you, Senpai," Sakura said as she plopped down on the offered seat. She crossed one leg over the other.

"Good plan. I'll talk to him about the budget too to figure out what we can afford, yeah," concluded Deidara. He rubbed his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. But Itachi caught the sly glance thrown his way an instant before Deidara opened his mouth to speak again. Just then, there was a loud groan from outside.

"Saaaacchaaan! What're you doing? It's so boring now," Kiba yelled up in an exaggerated drawl. Sakura rolled her eyes but didn't bother moving.

"Hey, if we go bowling, will you come, Sacchan?" This time it was Sasuke that spoke. Sakura's lips pursed, like she was considering something carefully. But then she reluctantly got out of her chair and then poked her head out of the window right next to Itachi. One leg in the air, she leaned out far to get a good look.

"Only if we stop by the Akimichi bakery after," she negotiated. There was a brief pause and then Sasuke nodded. A cheer rose from the group, including the girls. When she waggled her fingers at Sasuke in a silly wave, he stared at her for a moment before he stuck his tongue out at her and raised a victory sign with his right hand. Then he flopped down on the ground and stretched lazily to take a nap during the rest of the break.

"Careful, Sacchan. You might fall, yeah," warned Deidara. She twisted around to look at him, elbows resting on the sill and hair flowing out the window.

"You worry too much, Senpai," she said. And her smile, soft and as careless as the warm spring wind, was the reason that people flocked to her. At least, that was what Itachi thought. Their eyes met and for one quiet moment, something strange passed between them.

"Ah, Sacchan, this is Itachi. Uchiha Itachi, yeah," quickly said Deidara.

"Hi," was her short greeting.

"Hello," Itachi replied just as shortly.

"You're Uchiuchi's brother," she said. Itachi blinked quickly.

"Sorry. Who?"

A thought crossed her face, bounced around inside her head for a bit. And then she was twisting around to look over her shoulder at the courtyard again.

"Hey! Uchiuchi!" Sakura called down. Sasuke cupped his hand behind his right ear to say he was listening.

"Your brother's a lot better-looking than you are," she told him. Deidara let out a snort while Kisame tried to disguise his laugh as clearing his throat. Itachi almost choked on air. She really had no shame. At this, Sasuke flung himself upright, his eyes wildly searching for her face in the windows.

"Shit! Don't use that name in front of him!" Sasuke complained. Fluttering her eyelashes, Sakura drew a question mark into the air with her finger.

"Because it's embarrassing!" he half-shouted in response. With a heavy sigh, Sakura shrugged and then looked back to Itachi who was still a little floored.

"Uchiuchi," Itachi repeated. Hands clasped behind her, Sakura nodded. Even though he was certain that he was staring at this point, Sakura didn't seem to mind. She just offered him another lighthearted smile. The silliness behind the nickname and even behind her grin struck something in him.

To say Cupid shot an arrow would be a huge understatement. The flying, fat little bastard shoved a hundred of them into a cannon and fired them all at once.

* * *

><p>Itachi walked home by himself later that day. He lived in the opposite direction from all his friends so that was something that couldn't be helped. The low bustle and chatter of his classmates faded behind him. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked, drinking in the quiet of the countryside. By the time he got home half an hour later, all he could think of was taking a quick nap before starting on all his homework.<p>

When he pushed past the front gate, he noticed something sitting in front of the door. He glanced around, remembering that his parents were still away on their annual anniversary vacation. This year, it was Hawaii. Maybe it was a present from a helpful neighbor, then. It wasn't unusual for people to drop off the radishes and leeks just-pulled from the fields. Especially because his father was the only physician in town and his mother was the only dentist, it led to lots of locals offering them gifts this way.

Just then, there was a faint whine from the object.

"Shit," Itachi whispered as he cautiously stepped over to examine it. With hesitant fingers, he carefully pulled the lid of the basket up to reveal a chubby baby with wide black eyes. There was a note left on top of the blue blanket, written in a hurried scrawl.

"Auntie and Uncle, my debts have piled up and now I'm on the run from collectors. Please watch my son until I am able to resolve my situation. His name is Shinichi. He is only three months old. Shisui," Itachi read out loud. He stared blankly at the note for a while and then looked down at the baby who lay babbling happily at him. Crouched next to the child, Itachi wondered what the hell to do next.

He couldn't contact his parents. They had a strict no cellphone policy during the two weeks they took off every spring for their "romantic anniversary". And he felt his parents did deserve that time to themselves. Shisui's own parents were archaeologists who, to the best of Itachi's knowledge, were still working in Peru. The police was not an option. He couldn't dump his cousin's baby on strangers and walk off. That just wouldn't be fair.

Letting out a deep sigh, Itachi pushed his bangs out of his eyes and got to his feet.

"Well, let's get you inside, at least," muttered Itachi. The baby cooed as if agreeing.

"At least you're quiet," Itachi added with a shrug. He grabbed the handle of the basket and stepped into the house. With his foot, he closed the front door behind them and crumpled Shisui's note up in his fist.

When Uchiha Sasuke came home around 11 that night, a wail pierced his eardrums. Fingers jammed into his ears, he tip-toed into the living room to a perplexing scene.

Itachi sat in the middle of the living room with a sobbing, red-faced baby held arm's length away from him. With the eyes of a crazed man, Itachi spotted his younger brother.

"Big bro, what is **that**, and what're you doing with it?" Sasuke demanded. He pointed a finger at the baby as snot dribbled from its nose.

"Help," was all that left Itachi's mouth.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, Sasuke was standing near the front door. He peered periodically out the windows, anxiously rubbing his hands together whenever he wasn't. Itachi barely noticed this impatience because the baby had not stopped crying for hours. He had walked into the house with it and left it on the couch while he tried dialing Shisui's number. But the call didn't go through and Itachi was left with more questions than answers. The baby had fallen asleep so he had decided to take advantage of the situation and try to at least get his homework done.<p>

At precisely 7:19 pm, the baby had woken and unleashed all hell in the form of sound waves. Itachi had tried bouncing it and even feeding it milk but it had spit everything right back out. All the while, the aggravated screams had only gotten louder and louder. It was sort of a blessing that they lived in the countryside so their neighbors were too far to hear this racket.

Finally, Sasuke jumped. He yanked the front door open and ran barefoot into the street to meet the person pedaling down the street toward the house. She coasted to a stop, rubber soles of her sneakers scraping against the ground to slow her down. She hopped off her bike and then propped it up against the inside of the fence while Sasuke latched the gate.

"What's wrong, Sasuke-kun? It's super-late. You made it sound like you were dying," Sakura inquired as she finally turned to him. Sasuke fixed her with a strangely pained look. She let him pull her inside by the wrist. He barely gave her the chance to slip out of her shoes before practically throwing her into the living room.

"Wha-" The words froze partway up her throat as she stared at the chaos all around her. Hands in the pockets of her sleeveless hoodie, Sakura looked around at the spilled bottles of cooling milk lying on the ground. There were towels strewn about. The laptop sitting on the coffee table had several websites pulled up about taking care of babies. And Itachi sat cross-legged on the floor, still stiffly holding the baby in front of him as if it were a bomb preparing to detonate.

"Please," Itachi uttered in a near-gasp. With the hood still pulled up over her head, Sakura crouched down in front of him and stared the wailing baby directly in the face. She tilted her head to one side and then clicked her tongue.

"Give him here," she sighed. Placing her hands above Itachi's, she lifted the child out of his grasp. Letting the baby rest his chin on her left shoulder, she gently bounced him as she rubbed his back. Her eyes closed as she shushed him in low whispers.

And like some miracle, his screeches quieted to hiccupping. Sakura sniffed delicately, her face scrunching up. Then she carefully patted the baby's bottom and she rolled her eyes.

"You know," she began a couple minutes later. Sasuke had run out on her bike to the nearest convenience store to get some diapers and baby powder. Itachi stood at the kitchen sink washing out the toppled bottles of milk. He turned as he dried one of the bottles off with a clean towel.

"When a baby cries, the first thing you do is check the diaper," Sakura told him. She spoke quietly so as not to disturb the baby who lay in a boneless daze against her shoulder. All the crying had probably worn him out and he simply didn't have the energy to be upset about his dirty diaper anymore. Her cell phone rang from her back pocket and the baby whimpered again. Rubbing his back with her left hand, Sakura swiped her finger across the screen and answered.

"Sacchan, I don't know which size to buy. And what else did you say you needed?" Sasuke said into her ear. He was panting slightly, probably from biking like a madman.

"Get the ones in the blue boxes. Some baby powder- nothing with fragrances…Baby wipes. And some formula- the powdered kind. It should come in a can with a plastic lid," Sakura patiently reminded him. Between items, she listened to him fumbling around and muttering to himself as he read. And then she heard the plop of objects being dropped into the plastic convenience store basket.

"Alright. Is that everything?" he inquired with a huff.

"I think so. Thanks for your help, Sasuke-kun," Sakura said.

"Ah, first baby? I remember my first kid. Good luck with that," she overheard the cashier comment. Stifling a snort of laughter, Sakura hung up and dropped her phone on the sofa.

"He should be back in a few minutes," Sakura told Itachi. Nodding wearily, Itachi finished putting the dishes and cups into the drying rack. He sagged heavily against the counter, watching her with a strange expression.

"Senpai?" Sakura asked as she felt his gaze on her.

"Sorry. It's nothing. Is it alright with you if I take a shower? He spit up on me… a lot," Itachi quickly said. Sakura nodded. She occupied herself stroking the baby's back as she wandered around the living room and connected kitchen. She hummed quietly, hoping that the noise would keep the baby placated until Sasuke returned. To her immense relief, by the time Sasuke stumbled into the house, the baby hadn't launched into another set of screams.

When Itachi emerged from the shower, squeaky clean and happy, a few minutes later, he could hear Sakura's voice, a soft murmur. Sasuke occasionally interjected and the baby's coos mingled with their sounds too. Yanking on a pair of pajama pants and an old t-shirt, he made his way over to the living room where Sakura and Sasuke were crouched.

Sakura had spread a clean towel on the coffee table and laid the baby on top. She was just finishing placing the little adhesive strips on the diaper in place when he entered. Sakura looked up at him with a sympathetic smile.

"Maybe some coffee for Senpai would be a good idea," she remarked as she patted Sasuke's arm. Barely hiding his understanding grimace, Sasuke nodded and went to work the coffee maker. When the baby's face scrunched up, Itachi flinched. Fully expecting another screaming episode, he shot Sakura a frantic look. But as calm as ever, she reached out and lightly tapped her pointer finger on his cheeks and chin.

"Looks like someone's hungry," was all she said. With easy movements, she lifted the baby, resting him on her left hip as she paused to pick up the plastic bag from the grocery store. She went into the kitchen where the smell of coffee grinds was already filling the house.

"Can I help?" Itachi asked as he followed her. She blinked slowly, as if she had forgotten he was there already.

"Could you hold him?" she requested. Sakura turned around and looked pointedly down at the infant. Hesitating only for a moment, Itachi reached out and carefully put his hands under the baby's armpits. It let out an unhappy whine and Sakura immediately turned around again. She reached out to lightly press her palm against the back of its soft head.

"He's still too young to hold his head up so he's uncomfortable. Hold him against you so he has somewhere to rest his head," she explained before turning around again. As she busied herself washing her hands and bumping Sasuke out of the way with her hip, Itachi tried to mimic her pose from before. But after some awkward finagling, he managed to get the baby to rest in the crook of his left arm.

She was right. With his heavy head resting happily against something, the baby stopped making the noises. Instead it stared up at him with dark eyes that were frighteningly similar to his cousin's.

"So I'm going to guess that he's not yours, Uchiha-senpai." Itachi's head snapped up. Sakura had scooped some of the powder into a clean bottle and had pulled the nipple over the top. One hand on her hip, she stood flicking her wrist from side to side to mix the contents of the bottle together. Sasuke sat on the counter next to her, watching in rapt fascination.

"Ah. No. He's our cousin's. I found him outside when I got home from school," Itachi slowly replied. She made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat as she peered into the bottle. When she reached over to take the baby again, their arms brushed. Her skin was soft, as expected. But then she paused for an instant. She glanced at the baby, up at Itachi, and then at the bottle again. Instead of taking the baby, she left him in Itachi's arms, where he seemed to be quite comfortable. Sakura lifted the bottle to the baby's mouth. As soon as the rubber nipple was in reach, the baby greedily sucked it in. A soft smile, somewhat different from her normal ones, spread her lips.

"You must've had a rough day. Don't worry. You're in good hands," she murmured. A tiny bit of formula dribbled down the baby's round cheeks. As she brushed it away, Itachi felt his chest contract sharply.

The warmth in Sakura's expression was probably the most amazing thing he had seen in his life.

* * *

><p>The next day should have been a lazy Saturday. The brothers would wake up a little late, have breakfast, and then spend the day watching TV and flopping around the house in their pajamas.<p>

Instead, Itachi woke to a shrieking wail and he heard Sasuke fall out of his bed with a profound thump in the room next to his. With a heavy sigh, he dragged his weary body out from under the covers. He and Sasuke had managed to drag the old crib down from the attic. There, with Sakura's supervision, they had scrubbed it clean and fitted it with a soft, worn sheet. Covered up in a blanket, Shinichi had fallen into peaceful sleep just before 2 am. Almost on the verge of tears either from gratitude or exhaustion, Itachi had turned to Sakura sleepily rubbing at her eyes.

"Thank you, Haruno-san. I don't know what Sasuke and I would have done without you," he sighed.

"I figured it was an emergency when Sasuke-kun called. But I never thought it would be this serious. Get some rest, Uchiha-senpai. The only time you'll be getting any is when he's sleeping too," she told him. A strange look crossed her face.

"What's his name, by the way?" Sakura queried.

"Shinichi. Uchiha Shinichi."

She pondered carefully.

"That's a good name," she said. Then she blinked a couple times before looking up at the clock.

"I'll walk you home, Sacchan," Sasuke spoke up.

"No way. You go to sleep too, Sasuke-kun. If I bike quickly, I can be home in 20 minutes." And ignoring both their protests, Sakura had gone home by herself. Sasuke stood by the gate like a fretting mother, staring at her silhouette disappearing off into the night.

And now, less than four hours since Sakura had left, Shinichi was awake and making his discomfort perfectly clear. Stumbling over to the crib in the corner of the room, Itachi stared down. With his round face puckered up and bright red, Shinichi whined and squeaked and made generally some of the most unpleasant noises ever. Sasuke tripped over to them about a minute later.

"What's wrong with him?" demanded Sasuke in a half-sleeping slur.

They awkwardly checked his diaper and Sasuke made a gagging noise.

"I'll do it," sighed Itachi. Lifting the fussing infant into his arms, Itachi slouched his way downstairs where they had left all the things from last night. He fumbled through changing the diaper, hoping that his shoddy work would somehow hold together. As the baby let out another series of squeaks, Sasuke trudged over to the kitchen to mix up some formula. It was a lot lumpier than the one Sakura had made but Shinichi drank half of it down so it couldn't have been too terrible. Afterwards, Itachi laid him back down in the crib and crawled back into his bed too. Sasuke slumped in Itachi's spinning desk chair, asleep as soon as his butt was resting on the seat.

But an hour later, Shinichi let out another cry and Itachi wanted to stab himself in the eye. Even though the smell of a dirty diaper wasn't there, he figured that the baby must have soiled himself. He couldn't have been hungry so soon. Itachi wondered if it was normal for a baby to poop this much. Still, he let out a sigh as he carried the Shinichi down the stairs again. As he went to lower Shinichi onto the coffee table, there was a knock on the door. Sasuke was still upstairs so Itachi slung the baby over his shoulder and went to answer.

Sakura blinked at him with wide eyes when the door opened. She stared at him and then at the little wriggling butt and legs on his shoulder. Her forehead puckered.

Depositing the little box of pastries from the bakery into his hand, she lifted the squirming baby.

"Honestly. I'm gone for a few hours and this happens. Have you changed him yet, Senpai?" she said all at once, walking past him into the house. Itachi stood staring at the box of pastries.

He couldn't keep up with her.

"His diaper is fine. Did you burp him after you fed him?" Sakura continued in the same calm tone. His little arms flailed in protest but she didn't seem to have any trouble with that. She began patting his back, rubbing and thumping in a steady pattern. Itachi stared at her, as did Sasuke, who came stumbling down the stairs.

"Are you kneading dough for bread? What're you doing that for?" Sasuke slurred out in greeting. His question was answered a minute later when Shinichi let out a surprisingly loud belch. Eyes popping wide open, as if surprised by his own ability to burp, Shinichi immediately stopped crying. Instead, he let out a gurgle and reached up to pat Sakura's cheeks with chubby palms.

Really couldn't keep up.

* * *

><p>Sakura became a regular presence at the Uchiha home. That first weekend with Shinichi was terrifying to the brothers. Had it not been for her calmly changing diapers and wiping drool, Itachi was certain he would have had an emotional breakdown and Sasuke would have flung himself out a window.<p>

"You know, Sacchan's mom runs that daycare across the street from school," Sasuke said one day. Itachi, who had diligently been patting Shinichi's back after his bottle, paused to look at his brother.

'Happy Cradle' was the only daycare in town. When it had first opened 10 years ago, it had been a big relief to the working parents who had previously relied on the generosity of neighbors and relatives. The woman who ran the place was stern-faced but kind. Itachi had completely failed to make the connection between Haruno Mebuki and her daughter. But that explained how Sakura seemed to magically know exactly how to take care of babies.

The weekend passed quickly and when Monday rolled around, Itachi found himself heating up rice for breakfast while Sakura stood shaking up another batch of formula.

"Morning, Sasuke-kun," she cheerfully said when Sasuke trudged out of the bathroom while brushing his teeth. He grunted in response.

"Anyway, I talked to my mom and Shin-chan can stay with her during the day. I explained your situation to her and she says she won't charge you until everything gets sorted out," Sakura went on to explain. Itachi let out a deep sigh of relief.

"What would I do without you, Haruno-san?"

For a moment, there was a little pause that could have stretched on to become awkward. But Sakura easily brushed it off with a laugh.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Senpai. Isn't that right, Shin-chan?" she said as she looked down at the chubby baby held in her left arm. He gave her a toothless grin and that seemed to be the end of that.

They took Itachi's bike to school because there was an extra seat on the back for her to ride on. With Shinichi strapped to Itachi's back, they went off to school. Sasuke trailed a little ways behind them on his own bike. They dropped Shinichi off at the daycare and then headed across the street to the school.

The downside to Sakura having pink hair was that she was very easy to spot. As soon as Itachi coasted to a stop at the bike racks, there was a loud voice.

"Sacchan! Why've you been ignoring all my texts?" Naruto demanded as he ran up to them. And then his face scrunched up.

"Why're you two coming to school together?" he went on to ask. Sakura and Itachi exchanged looks. Itachi shrugged. A devious smile stretched Sakura's mouth as she looked back to Naruto.

"Secret," she whispered while hopping off the back of the bike. Sending Itachi a wink, Sakura hooked her arm through Naruto's and dragged him off to class.

It had never really occurred to Itachi how often he saw Sakura and her friends during school. Because of her flashy hair, he would have expected to have noticed her a lot earlier. Every time he passed her in the halls, she was surrounded by a group of friends. She laughed with her mouth open and her head thrown back. Sometimes the arms of guys thrown around her made his gut twinge a bit too. In the fuss of all her friends, he expected Sakura to always walk straight past him.

Instead, her eyes, as if by some magic, would always catch sight of him. She would give a little wave or a smile that he knew without a doubt was always reserved for him.

During a short break between classes, Itachi received a text message. It was from a number he didn't recognize but when he opened it up, he felt a strange sense of relief. It was a forwarded picture of Shinichi lying on his back. Underneath, Sakura had added her own message.

'_Mom says Shin-chan's doing well. Do you want to go pick him up together after school?'_

"Don't smile to yourself like that, Itachi. That's creepy, man."

* * *

><p>After a few days, it got out that Sakura and Itachi were seen hanging out with a baby. To avoid gossip and the worst of the rumors, they explained to the teachers and to their classmates that they were taking care of his cousin's kid. They hadn't really known what to expect. But suddenly Sakura's popularity grew even stronger as she gained a reputation for being not only pretty but also kind. Itachi initially had a group of girls in his grade eyeing him with new interest too until he flatly told him that a large part of his new duties included cleaning up vomit and poop. They dispersed quickly.<p>

For the most part, Itachi and Sakura were left alone. A lot of people seemed content to admire Shinichi from afar and to run as soon as a diaper needed to be changed or as soon as he spit up. These times, he was secretly glad that he was the only one around to see Sakura's smiles and the sounds of her coos as she tickled the baby's tummy.

After about a week, Sasuke reached into the mailbox and found a postcard from their parents. Apparently they had won some sort of raffle and the hotel had given them an extra two weeks' stay for free as their prize.

This was secretly a relief to Itachi, who had come to enjoy the afternoons he spent with Sakura while Sasuke was busy with club activities or was out playing with friends. They rode on his bicycle together to get Shinichi his vaccinations in the big hospital the next city over and the other mothers in the waiting room always commented on what a lovely couple they made. Sakura always laughed and never bothered to correct them.

"It's easier to explain that way," she sighed afterwards.

One night, as they sat in the living room, Sasuke passed by and paused to say hello. He crouched down and offered his pinky to Shinichi who grasped it with a gurgle. A smirk appeared on Sasuke's face.

"You know, for a poop monster, you're kind of cute," he relented. Sakura rolled her eyes. She flapped her hands at him to shoo him away. Once Sasuke was gone, Itachi carefully lifted Shinichi up and began patting his back. Sakura reached over to drape a little cloth over Itachi's shoulder in case something other than just a burp came up. His gaze wandered to Sakura who had moved on to cleaning up Shinichi's bottle and the remnants of their dinner too.

"Haruno-san," Itachi called out. She turned with that half-smile already beginning to curl up the corners of her mouth. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and her bangs were falling into her eyes. He stared at her for a long time. And then words just slithered out.

"I'm stupid in love with you. Would you be my girlfriend?"

The bottle slipped out of her grasp. It fell with a dull clunk to the floor. Her gaze went from the bottle and then to him. All the while, Itachi hadn't stopped patting Shinichi's back.

"Uh… I… I mean… I don't really know what to say," she finally stuttered. And at that moment, Shinichi let out a triumphant belch. The awkwardness was dispelled and Sakura was reaching down to pick up the bottle as they both laughed a little shyly.

"Well, I think Shin-chan just answered for me. You know, I'm not nice enough to clean up poop for just any guy's kid," Sakura finally said. This being said, she pressed a light kiss to Itachi's cheek and was off to the kitchen to do dishes. Smiling to himself, Itachi continued to bounce Shinichi up in down until he was sure that the baby was all burped. Holding Shinichi up in front of him, Itachi eyed him seriously.

"Were you just my wingman?" he demanded. Shinichi blew out a bunch of spit bubbles, which Itachi took as a 'yes'.

"You were my baby wingman. Best wingman ever," Itachi sighed as he carried him upstairs to his crib.

* * *

><p>When Mikoto and Fugaku finally came back from their vacation, they walked in to find a girl sleeping on the living room floor. Lying on her side with one hand tucked under her cheek, she seemed completely at ease there. Her other arm was stretching out, curling around a baby who was also sleeping contently. From her pink hair, they recognized her as the daughter of the woman who ran the daycare. What was really shocking about this all was their eldest son, Itachi, sleeping on the other side of the baby.<p>

"Ah, welcome home, Mom and Dad," Sasuke whispered as he ducked out of the kitchen on tiptoes. Mikoto stared at the bottle in his hand.

"What's going on here?" Fugaku asked in a low voice.

"Well… let's see. That's Sakura, my friend. She's dating Nii-san now. And that's Shinichi, he's Shisui nii-chan's kid," explained Sasuke in a bored voice as he pointed to each person. Mikoto blinked a few times. She watched as Sasuke stepped around the sleeping people to dig inside the drawer of the coffee table. After a moment, he returned with a wrinkled sheet of paper in his hand.

It was Shisui's note.

Mikoto and Fugaku leaned over to read the message.

"That stupid boy," Fugaku finally sighed.

The three of them stood in the doorway of the living room. Mikoto absently stroked the top of Sasuke's head as she thought.

"Well… I suppose I can try to get in touch with my brother and see if he'll take in his grandkid. If not… we'll work something out," Fugaku slowly said, looking over at his wife to make sure she agreed. Mikoto nodded.

"Awfully cute," Mikoto suddenly commented. Fugaku's expression warmed a little as he looked over Shinichi's chubby cheeks.

"He is. It must be the Uchiha genes," he gruffly agreed. Mikoto laughed a little.

"No. I meant Itachi's girlfriend. I always knew my sons would be popular," she tittered.

"Mom. Gross," groaned Sasuke.

* * *

><p>Time went on. Fugaku's brother declined taking in the baby simply because the barren mountains of Peru were no place to raise a child. Shisui disappeared off the face of the earth. And when they had considered finding an alternative situation for Shinichi, Itachi and Sakura had rejected the idea so vehemently that it was never brought up again.<p>

Spring changed to summer and then fall. Shinichi watched the first leaves fall from the trees with wonder sparkling in his eyes. He giggled and tried to catch the snowflakes that scattered down from the sky in the winter. He tottered to his feet, opened his mouth to form words, and went through countless clothes as he grew and grew.

One warm spring day when the cherry blossoms were just starting to bloom on the trees outside school, there was a bunch of noise outside as the freshmen ate their lunches. With a sigh, Sakura leaned out the window, a senior now. With her legs crossed and her elbows resting on the sill, she stared out at the sky with a morose expression.

"Cheer up, Sacchan. I'm sure your boyfriend will call soon," Tenten called out from her seat.

"Yeah, I mean he goes to university in the next city over so it's not even that far away. He visits every weekend, right?" Ino added.

"Who would've thought, out of all of us, Sacchan would have a boyfriend all three years of high school? It's so romantic," Tenten laughed. Their chatter was interrupt by a loud slurping noise. They looked up to find Sasuke standing where Sakura had been, a carton of milk in his hand.

"You do realize she's been gone for… most of your conversation, right?" he said. The girls got out of their seats to see what Sasuke was staring at too.

Outside, Sakura was running out of the front doors, her hair flying out behind her in her rush. She could feel the eyes of other students on her as she ran like crazy but she didn't really care.

"Sakura-tan!" She had heard the little voice through the window and bolted out of the classroom. Because in the core of her heart, she would recognize that sound anywhere. As she ran down the stone path, she saw a little figure running toward her. With a wide smile, she dashed the extra few steps and swept up the chubby toddler into her arms.

"Sakura-tan!" Shinichi squealed into her ear as she squeezed him tight.

"Shin-chan, how did you get here? I thought you were with Grandma and Grandpa…" she trailed off when she looked up and saw a man walking toward her too.

"Chi-tan came! We went to the park!" Shinichi exclaimed.

"Is that so? Did you say thank you to Chi-tan?" replied Sakura with a smile as her eyes fell on Shinichi again. Shinichi's eyes widened as he turned back to look at the man.

"Thank you, Chi-tan!" he chimed out with a little flailing wave of his hand. Her heart bubbling over with affection for the boy, Sakura hugged him close again. Shinichi patted her cheek to get her attention, a habit he had picked up very early on.

"Um, um, Sakura-tan…" he tried to explain, struggling with his excitement while trying to remember what he had wanted to say.

"He can say Sa-ku-ra properly but still can't say my name," Itachi sighed into her ear as he snuck up behind her. Pressing a kiss to her temple, Itachi slipped an arm around her waist.

"Well, 'Chi-tan', I think it's cute," she replied with a sniff.

There was a loud squeal as a group of freshmen girls who had been eating outside came over. In all their jostling, they moved in Shinichi's way, blocking his line of sight to Itachi. That was strike one. Then they began crowding around, poking at Shinichi's cheeks and touching his hair. Strike two. His eyes widened and began to water a little. He had never been good with strangers.

"Wow! Haruno-senpai, is this your little brother?" one of them asked. As Shinichi's little hand clenched into the front of her shirt, Sakura tried to pat his back to soothe him.

"No, not exactly," Sakura responded with a little laugh. She tried to take a step back but they just moved in closer.

"Can I hold him? He's so cute!" another exclaimed. As soon as he felt unfamiliar hands close in around him, Shinichi's expression became one of acute panic.

Strike three.

Grabbing onto Sakura's shirt with both hands, he let out a hiccup that turned into a sob.

"No! No! Go away!" Shinichi cried out. Immediately, the girls took a step back, startled.

"My Mama! Mine!" he continued to yell as he shook his head so hard Sakura began to worry he might hurt himself. Laughing a little, Sakura pressed her hand to the back of his head and stroked it to calm him down.

"Hey, Shin-chan, you're getting her uniform dirty," Itachi sighed.

"That's alright. And sorry, girls. He really doesn't like it when people touch him. I should have warned you," Sakura apologized. The girls stared back at her.

"Mama?" one of them repeated with a stunned expression.

"Here comes the snot. Come on, kiddo. Give Mama a break. You're heavier than you think you are," Itachi interrupted as he lifted Shinichi who was still sniffling. Sakura absently glanced down at the damp spot on her blouse and then back at the girls.

"Long story. Ask her if you want all the juicy details," she sighed, pointing up at the school building. Hanging out of the window, Ino waved.

"Come up here with your lunches. It's seriously a long story," Ino called down.

"And how come she's 'Mama' but I'm just 'Chi-tan'? That doesn't seem fair," Itachi continued complaining while wiping Shinichi's tears with his hands.

"What are you doing, Senpai? The both of you are completely hopeless. Did you bring his bag?" Sakura said as she looked around. She caught sight of the messenger bag over Itachi's shoulder and began digging in it, now completely forgetting the freshmen girls still watching them. After a moment, she located a packet of tissues and pulled one out.

"Say 'Papa', Shin-chan," ordered Itachi.

"P-Papa," hiccupped Shinichi.

"Stop bullying him. You're awful," laughed Sakura. She gently patted Shinichi's cheeks dry and then pinched his nose.

"Can you blow your nose for me?" she requested in a soft voice. Shinichi nodded and then let out a tiny honk.

"Good job!" Itachi said, the smile returning to his face.

"Have you eaten lunch yet?" Sakura asked, looking up at Itachi. Shinichi made a grabbing motion toward Sakura so they transferred him over. Sakura rested the boy on her left hip as they continued their conversation. Shinichi didn't seem to mind and nuzzled into her soft hair, as if determined to hide himself there.

"Not yet. I promised him we'd go eat hamburgers today," Itachi replied.

"Okay, well make sure he takes his nap at 4 or he gets really cranky. Are you taking the train? I hope he doesn't get motion sick," she said all at once, her face crinkling as she worried more and more.

"Hey," Itachi interrupted her rambling. When she saw looking into his eyes instead of at Shinichi, Itachi leaned in to kiss her. Another set of squeals drew Shinichi's wary gaze. He saw the girls still standing a little distance away and hid in Sakura's hair again.

"We'll be fine. I am the dependable Chi-tan after all," he assured her.

"I know you're right. Sorry," she relented.

"Be good for Chi-tan, okay?" Sakura said as she stroked Shinichi's cheek. His head perked up to stare at her.

"Sakura-tan not coming?" he asked with such a forlorn look that Sakura felt part of her heart break.

"I'll see you when you wake up from your nap, okay?" promised Sakura. Shinichi didn't pout as she had expected. Instead, he reached up and put his little arms around Sakura's neck in a hug.

"Love you, Sakura-tan," he whispered, as shy as always.

"Love you too," she responded with a kiss for his cheek. Shinichi giggled. He always said her kisses tickled. He let Itachi pick him up, content with the attention he had gotten from Sakura for now.

"What, don't you love me too?" teased Itachi.

"You're absolutely ridiculous," sighed Sakura even as she rose on her tiptoes to kiss him as well. She watched them leave, with Shinichi waving his hand enthusiastically until they left the front gates and she couldn't see them anymore. After a moment of thinking, Sakura turned around to stare up at Sasuke, Ino, and Tenten all looking out the window at her. Sasuke, with a look of absolute boredom, was still sipping at his milk. His teeth clenched around his straw as he flapped a hand at her.

"If you're going to make that face, just skip. We'll tell Sensei you went home with a stomachache," he sighed. Tenten disappeared for a moment and then popped back into view.

"Head's up!" she called before tossing Sakura's bag out the window. With flailing arms, Sakura managed to catch it.

"Thanks, guys!" Sakura yelled, already running for the gates. As she rounded the corner too, she heard a sweet laugh.

"Chi-tan was right! It's Sakura-tan!"

Sakura whirled around and found Itachi leaning against the stone wall running along the front of the school property. She couldn't decide what was better: the smug look on Itachi's face or Shinichi running up to hug her leg.


	32. Star-Crossed

Star-Crossed

(suggested by BB1123)

"Who the hell ate the last yogurt?" Sasuke demanded as he entered the room. The metal doors automatically slid shut behind him. Kakashi peered at him past the edge of his orange book before he silently resumed his reading with a little shake of his head. Sasuke's accusatory stare then flew to Naruto sitting at the navigation panel.

"…Was it the last?" Naruto tentatively responded.

"Wrong answer," remarked Kakashi before Sasuke picked up the nearest object (an ashtray) and flung it straight at Naruto's head. Naruto didn't duck fast enough and the glass dish hit him in the back of the skull.

"Ow, calm down, Prissypants. I'll buy you more yogurt when we land. Christ!" yelled Naruto as he rubbed the back of his abused head.

"Anyway, the Captain's up. He says we should all gather at the bridge for something important," Sasuke added with the same vicious look aimed at Naruto. Naruto glared right back.

But when Itachi arrived on the bridge, the bickering two got back to work. Kakashi didn't move from his seat but he did give a salute as Itachi made his way to his chair.

"Regarding that jewel we found last week, I've brought us to someone who can help," said Itachi. Naruto twisted his head to peer out one of the windows.

"Is that why we're out by Jupiter? I thought we were headed back to Mars after all this," remarked Naruto. Itachi nodded.

"There's someone out here we can talk to," replied Itachi. He punched in a long sequence on his keyboard. The interface flickered through different windows until it reached the communication program. Names and numbers scrolled past until it landed on one in particular. While Naruto watched this, Sasuke tilted his head to watch Callisto slowly spin past. The icy moon was as gray and bleak as it always was. There was a seedy bar and a few equally shady hotels on it but the fact that everyone had to walk around with oxygen tanks and heat-regulation suits to keep from dying made the tourist trade less than effective there. The only notable establishment on the moon was a large fueling station that pilots frequently used on their travel between inner and outer planets.

"Who the hell is living on Callisto that we have to talk to?" Sasuke muttered. As the webcam warmed up, Itachi shot him an amused look. He silently pointed at the windshield. Even Kakashi looked up from his book to follow the finger. Sasuke squinted until he could see the shape hovering in the darkness outside.

"Is that a ship? What's it doing orbiting a moon like that? Isn't that illegal without a permit?" Naruto gasped.

"Highly illegal. But I doubt law enforcement out here is strict," Kakashi drawled. The conversation was interrupted when the ship beeped to let them know that the call had connected. The transparent partition in front of the captain's control panel and chair glowed before an image appeared on it. It took a moment for the brightness level to adjust. Already bored, Naruto picked up the flying instruction manual and began lazily sifting through it. Sasuke crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back in his chair, turning away to face the windshield. When the colors on the screen normalized, it was clear that the camera on the opposite end was trained on a bed.

There were empty food containers pushed off to the sides next to the mattress. Clothes were strung up behind the bed. The view out the dirty window showed the same darkness of space. In the back corner was what appeared to be an old hoverboard with a fair number of scratches and dings. There was a growling noise accompanied by a flailing hand emerging from the sheets.

"Talk," a disembodied voice barked from somewhere on the bed.

"Oi, wake up. I've got something to ask you about," Itachi said. A sleepy grumble answered him. Very slowly, a head lifted from the tangle of pillows and comforter. But then it dropped back down with a soft thud. Itachi shook his head.

"What the hell do you want?" the man grunted.

"Don't forget that you owe me a favor. Now get up," Itachi sighed with impatience.

"Ah, I know that voice," a woman suddenly chimed in. Three extra pairs of eyes suddenly flitted to the screen. The image turned peach for a moment as a palm grabbed the camera lens to angle it more to the left. Then, when it focused, it revealed a woman with nothing but a sheet wrapped around her. There was an intricate tattoo of scattering flower petals and swirling shades of blue and green running down her left arm. Maybe it was the odd lighting of the room, but her hair was the most unusual shade of pink. Behind her was an open closet that overflowed with wrinkled clothing.

"Uchiha Itachi," she uttered in a near-purr. Itachi's jaw tightened.

"Haruno," he responded with clenched teeth.

"Who?" Naruto whispered from behind his manual.

"My brother's last partner," answered Sasuke in a low voice.

"Ah! You mean the one that ditched him and ran off with a bunch of money?" Naruto suddenly exclaimed, forgetting to be quiet in all his excitement. Sasuke let out a long sigh, pretending not to feel the power of his brother's glare on the side of his face.

"To be fair, I used part of that money to drink a toast to you," the woman interjected. She peered intently into the camera and ran her fingers through her long hair. When her arm moved, it pressed against her breast, creating a line of cleavage above the edge of the sheet. Naruto turned pink as he slowly pretended to be staring elsewhere. Sasuke cleared his throat.

"So, what the hell do you want, Itachi?" the man's voice growled from somewhere off-screen.

"I need a second opinion. How much do you think this thing could go for? We salvaged it a few days back and I don't trust the people who might be willing to buy it to name a price," Itachi said. With a few button presses, he sent an image of their cargo to the other ship. At this, Sakura's eyes widened. She suddenly shifted from her position on the bed, partially out of view of the camera.

"Hey, lend me that, will you?" she said. After some rustling, she scooted back in front of the camera, a silver scope in her hand. She held it up in front of her right eye, squinting the other one shut. Leaning in close, she examined the image being sent to her computer screen.

"Ah, hey. That's a big rock. I'd price that at maybe 10k? If it's not damaged, you might be able to milk it for about 12k," Sakura remarked. She then nudged the lump lying in bed beside her.

"Hey, what do you think?" she asked. There was a mumble in response.

"Useless," Sakura scoffed before turning back to the screen. She lowered the scope while a mischievous smile spread her lips.

"I'm assuming you called because you need more than a cursory consultation. If you're way out here, that means you're on your way to Europa. The people there aren't exactly known for their fair business," she said, wagging a finger at them.

"I'm asking him, not you," Itachi retorted.

"Pass," the man immediately said.

"I'll go," Sakura offered. The man sat up. A shaggy mane of tangled blonde hair covered his face.

"What?" he demanded.

"I said that I'll go, then. You told me you were a treasure hunter, not a lazy drunk," Sakura cheerfully said. She crawled off the opposite edge of the bed. Turning her back to the camera, she let the sheet drop and began picking up her clothes off the floor. Before Itachi even turned his furious gaze to the crew, all three men quickly averted their gazes.

"Haruno, what are you doing?" Itachi said in an impatient voice. There was a distinct snap as Sakura adjusted the straps of her bra. She pulled on her underwear and then shimmied into the tight black shorts she always wore. She cast a brief glance over her shoulder.

"Look, you need someone to make sure you don't get swindled and I want to get the hell out of here. Just open up when I go to dock, okay?" Sakura sighed. She then zipped up her sleeveless red top.

"I'd be more worried about getting swindled by you at this point," muttered Itachi.

"Flirting already?" she teased in response. She pulled on her black boots while fixing the camera with a knowing smile. Shaking his head, Itachi turned his chair away from the screen.

For some insane reason, when the ship received a signal requesting a docking position, Itachi waved for Naruto to proceed. With a few flipped switches, the bottom hatch of the ship opened to let the small red vehicle inside. Naruto monitored the usual airlock procedures on his screen while Sasuke turned to face his brother.

"I thought you said she ruins people's lives," Sasuke demanded.

"And?" said Itachi with a weary look.

"And you're letting her on our ship?" Sasuke continued in an incredulous tone. Itachi slumped back in his chair.

"Don't worry. She's not interested in any of you. Just… don't look into her eyes and you should be fine," warned Itachi. There was an ominous edge to his words. Naruto paled a little while Kakashi finally closed his orange book. Hooking a finger into the red scarf around his neck, Kakashi pulled the knit fabric up to cover the lower half of his face. And then he put his feet up on the console and resumed his reading of his book. Sasuke gave his brother an exasperated look before he turned back in his chair to face the front of the bridge.

The doors slid open and Sakura pranced in with the smell of flowery perfume. She lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head as she swept her gaze around the bridge. Seating herself on the arm of Itachi's chair, she pushed off with her feet, sending the chair spinning in a slow circle. Itachi slammed his foot down, jerking them to a stop.

"Good to see you too, Darling," she purred before she twisted around and planted herself straight in his lap. Draping her arms around his neck, Sakura flashed a coy smile.

"Don't even think about kissing me with that mouth," he flatly said without looking at her.

"Why? Jealous that it's been elsewhere?" teased Sakura. When Itachi slowly turned his stony gaze to her, she fluttered her eyelashes. After a tense but brief staring match, Itachi shoved her off his lap and got to his feet.

"Where you headed, Cap?" Naruto asked.

"Shut up," Itachi snapped before he strode off the bridge. The heavy metal doors slid shut behind him. They all sat staring at the metal doors for several seconds until Sakura clicked her tongue.

"That went better than expected," she sighed to herself. With a little grunt, she got to her feet and dusted off her backside. She examined her nails and then adjusted her hair before she realized that there were other people on the bridge with her. Eyebrows rising, Sakura turned to face the rest of the crew.

"Ah, so you're my replacements. Nice to meet you," Sakura said. Before anyone had time to respond, she put on her sunglasses and then pushed the button to open the door.

"Wait, where're you going?" Naruto demanded.

"To the kitchen. I haven't eaten all day. You have any yogurt?" Sakura simply answered. She missed the fact that Sasuke shot Naruto a glare.

The presence of a woman on the ship was an alien experience to the three crewmen. The captain seemed to deal with the problem with exasperation but he seemed powerless to make her leave. Her long legs were the main point of interest for quite some time until she grew fed up and punched Naruto in the face. After that, eyes stayed above her neck and that seemed to suit her just fine.

Sakura adjusted to her change of homes quickly in comparison. She was restless- constantly cooking up stir-fry in the kitchen while sneaking a cigarette or wandering around the ship looking for things to do. She dropped by the engine room and easily resolved a problem with the coolant without consulting the manual while Sasuke watched with amazement widening his eyes. When a nearby electrical storm scrambled the communication systems, Sakura pushed Naruto's hands off the keypad. She opened up the console instead and spent several minutes cutting wires and taping new connections together until the screens flickered to life again. She stayed far away from Kakashi, though. On the night she arrived, Kakashi whispered something in her ear and promptly received a knee in the groin. They hadn't spoken since.

As the weeks passed, the captain's anger bubbled down to something closer to irritation. The deal on Europa went well and they came away with a hefty profit. Part of that, however grudgingly, went into Sakura's bank account. Sakura was unfazed by the dirty looks Itachi sent her way. And despite his brother's warning, Sasuke found himself warming up to the woman very quickly.

"So you're a smuggler too?" asked Sasuke one afternoon as he closed the main power panel in the boiler room and leaned against it. He rubbed at a smudge of black grease on his cheek. Sakura, sitting on top of an old crate, smiled.

"Not exactly. I'm a dabbler. I kind of wander around picking up new trades and learning them as I go," Sakura responded with her cheek in her hand. Sasuke raised an eyebrow. He spun his wrench around once before pocketing it.

"Okay, well, if you had to define yourself in one job title, what would it be?" he tried again.

"A winner," answered Sakura with a smirk. Shaking his head, Sasuke chuckled. He turned around, flipping switches and checking monitors to make sure that the engine was running smoothly. Only when all the registers lit up green to say that the systems were healthy did Sasuke turn back to her.

"Why'd you break up with big bro anyway?" he questioned with a grunt as he shoved a particularly stubborn panel shut with his shoulder.

"Oh, you know, he was obsessed with finding your uncle and killing him for most of his life. But one day, he suddenly started talking about the future and stuff once all of that was over. I don't know. I was 20. I panicked. And then, a couple weeks later, I packed my things and left," Sakura said in a soft voice. But then her expression shifted to one of suspicion.

"By the way, if you ever tell him that, I'll kill you," she added with a glare. But Sasuke was already paling as he stared over her shoulder. Sucking in a deep breath, Sakura steeled herself.

"He's behind me," she slowly said. Sasuke nodded just once. Grimacing, Sakura looked over her shoulder to find Itachi standing in the doorway with a thunderstruck expression. A hiss escaped through her teeth as she looked around the room. When her eyes flickered up, they found the grate for the air vent directly above her. She got to her feet, snatched the screwdriver from Sasuke's pocket, and stood on the box to quickly unscrew the grate cover. It clanged noisily to the ground when she dropped it. With one pull, she hoisted herself up and then swung her legs up into the vent too. All the while, Itachi stood staring without any intention to stop her.

"…She's in the vents, Big Bro," Sasuke commented as he stared up into the dark rectangle she had disappeared into.

"Yeah," Itachi agreed.

"Has she done this before?" the younger brother went on to question.

"Yeah," Itachi sighed. Kicking the box aside, he strode out of the room, leaving Sasuke still staring up at the vent.

"What the hell…" Sasuke whispered to himself

Captain Uchiha spent the rest of the afternoon tracking Sakura through the hidden vents and service tunnels throughout the ship. He commandeered ("STOLE!" Naruto shouted after him.) Naruto's tracker and set it to detect life forms on the ship. He followed Sakura's movements through the vents, surprised by how well she remembered the layout after so many years had passed. At one point, she stopped moving and he began to wonder if the machine was malfunctioning. Then the smell of peanut wafted down from the nearest grate and he realized that she had stopped to have a snack. He burst out laughing.

Only when the ship clock hit 6 did Sakura peer out furtively past the grates before she removed it as quietly as she could. After another careful look around, she jumped down from the vent, finding herself somewhere near the cargo bay. She saw no sounds of people nearby and let out a sigh of relief just as she saw something moving very quickly toward her.

"You left because you thought I was going to ask you to marry me?" Itachi demanded while grabbing her wrist. When she struggled, he pushed her until her back hit the wall.

"Let go of me," she said in a shaking voice.

"Tell me the truth, Sakura. You told me it was because you were bored," he went on. At this, a steely look took over Sakura's face. Her lips pulled into a sneer.

"Oh, fuck you, Itachi! Governor's sons don't end up with smugglers. You think I didn't know?" she snapped. The startled expression on his face was somewhat satisfying to watch.

"Your friend told me everything that night we went to that bar on Mars. You and your brother are the missing sons of the Governor of Triton," scoffed Sakura.

"That has nothing-"

"It has everything to do with this! I grew up catching mutated rats for a living, Itachi. I spent three years flashing my tits to strangers in a sleezy little bar on Mars until I could save up enough to buy my own ship. I never had a future planned out for me so I had to make one. I've never let myself be thrown away before. And I sure as hell wasn't going to start with you," Sakura spat. She shoved his chest hard. But Itachi stood his ground.

Grabbing her shoulders, he pinned her against the wall. He matched the intensity of her stare.

"Then why did you come back?" he questioned.

"Because I missed your stupid face, okay? But this isn't going to work. It was wrong of me to come here," Sakura told him in a low, quavering voice. Pushing his hands aside, she started off in a brisk stride down the hall. It took a long moment, but his footsteps began clomping after her.

"Where are you going?" Itachi called after her. His own angry voice bounced around in loud echoes.

"Anywhere. Maybe I'll go stay with my friend on Ganymede. It doesn't matter. I just need to get away from you," Sakura retorted without slowing down. She knew without looking that Itachi had flinched at that. She soon made her way to the docking bay where her little red ship was waiting. It opened up to her after scanning her fingerprint and retinas. Her bag filled with her few possessions was already sitting in the passenger's seat. It had always sat in there, always waiting for her to leave at a moment's notice.

Itachi stood staring at her.

"Sakura," he said.

She leaned back in her seat with a heavy sigh. When she looked over at him, she had to steel herself.

"What?" she finally retorted.

"…What the hell are we doing?" Itachi inquired. A soft laugh left her at that. Both her hands came up to grasp the steering controls.

"Don't worry, Itachi. We'll meet again. We always do," Sakura said in a voice laced with warmth. With that, she pulled a lever. The glass roof of the cockpit descended to seal her in completely. She flipped switches and twisted buttons until the engine began to hum. The sound grew louder and louder before a voice crackled in over the intercom.

"Cap, we've got notice of an engine starting up in there. What's going on?" Naruto asked over the speakers. At this, Sakura's gaze fluttered to him again. There was no pleading in that look. She simply sat there, waiting for him to make a decision. He took a deep breath before making a decision.

"Nothing. Authorized take off. Release the locks," he yelled back.

Itachi stared at Sakura for a long time before he put his hands in his pockets and headed inside through the thick sliding doors. Once he was safely inside the hallway, he watched through the glass door as the floor of the bay suddenly dropped open. The small red craft hesitated before energy exploded out the rear jet and it smoothly fell through the opening. A loud beeping ensued as the doors began shutting so the bay could be pumped full of air again.

By the time the captain was back on the bridge, three pairs of curious eyes were on his every movement.

"She's gone," Sasuke guessed after a long time. Itachi sank into his chair without comment.

"Shame. I liked her," Naruto chirruped. Sasuke rolled his eyes.

"A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things," Kakashi suddenly recited. Itachi stared uncomprehendingly at him until the older man tugged his scarf down to reveal a sly smile. He pulled off the orange dust jacket to his book to reveal a more classic text.

"Romeo and Juliet? What the hell, I thought you were reading porn this whole time!" Naruto exclaimed.

"Seems like you're a pair of star-crossed lovers destined for tragedy, Itachi," Kakashi stated as he waved the book in front of his face.

"Well, she's crossing stars, alright," commented Sasuke as he glanced down at the scanners on the console. Attention turned to him.

"Looks like she's high-tailing her way straight out of the solar system," Sasuke observed as he followed the beeping red dot on the radar. Itachi's brow furrowed.

"What? No. She said she was going to Ganymede," Itachi said as he stood to look at the radar too.

There was a long pause before Kakashi closed his book with an odd sort of finality.

"Itachi… any chance you've changed the combination on the safe since the last time she was here?" the older man calmly questioned.

"Ah… crap," sighed Naruto.

Itachi shook his head as his younger brother launched into an infuriated tirade of insults. Glancing out toward the windshield, he watched the distant glow of her ship soaring through the darkness. For some odd reason, he felt a proud smile curl his mouth.

* * *

><p>Thanks for all the prompts and reviews up until now. I've never done an anthology before but it was a genuinely fun experience. Hopefully I'll find the time to be able to start another one of these in the future.<p> 


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